


Conversational Intelligence

by Janieohio



Series: That's Life Together [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Awkward Conversations, Cute Teddy Lupin, Developing Relationship, Drinking & Talking, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oblivious Harry Potter, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Potioneer Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23448466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janieohio/pseuds/Janieohio
Summary: "Conversation is a meeting of minds with different memories and habits. When minds meet, they don't just exchange facts: they transform them, reshape them, draw different implications from them, engage in new trains of thought. Conversation doesn't just reshuffle the cards: it creates new cards."-Theodore ZeldinFive years after the war, Andromeda Tonks becomes ill and needs someone to take care of Teddy for a while, forcing Harry and Draco to come together and try to make the best of the situation. It's time for Harry and Draco to talk.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: That's Life Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559218
Comments: 116
Kudos: 448
Collections: feert91 finished readings





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the "origin" story, if you will, of my series _That's Life Together_ , following Harry and Draco through their relationship and lives together. If you've not read the rest of the series, that's perfect, as you're starting in the right place. If you don't want to read further than this story, that's fine, too, as this story will also work as a standalone and all the major points will be resolved. However, you'll miss out on the rest of their lives together, so... to each his own, I guess. :D
> 
> I love these two guys, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

* * *

_Conversational Intelligence is the hardwired ability in all humans to connect, engage and navigate with others…_ _Conversational Intelligence is about closing the gaps between your reality and mine.  
_ _— Judith Glaser_

* * *

Draco sat stiffly down at the table with the mediocre cup of tea offered in St Mungo's tearoom and glanced at Potter across the room, still ordering his drink. He was distinctly uncomfortable with the situation, but he'd spent four years in France earning his Potions Mastery, and he'd be damned if he'd be intimidated by the bloody Gryffindor he was currently stuck dealing with for the foreseeable future.

Said Gryffindor finally arrived and flopped down into the chair like a heathen and brushed his hair back out of his face. He leaned forward and took a delicate sip of his tea that seemed at odds with his other erratic movements.

Draco scowled. "You know, they do make a thing called a hairbrush. One would think that even if they hadn't taught you about those as a child, you might have picked up on it at the Auror academy.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, Malfoy, this is as uncomfortable for me as it is for you, but we're both here for Andromeda and Teddy, right? So let's do our best to make nice and get through this without any loss of life or limb?"

Andromeda. Merlin, it made him sick just to think about it. Breast cancer was uncommon in witches, but not unheard of. The Healers still weren't sure if she was going to recover, and his mother was spending most of her days with her sister. After his father passed, his mother and aunt had reunited and in the nearly three years since, they'd once again become close. He was happy for both women, but he was afraid of what it would do to his mother if she lost her only remaining sister again so soon. As it was, Andromeda would be confined to the hospital for at least the next four weeks as she underwent intensive treatment, and that didn't include the weeks of recovery to follow.

"Fine. I'll refrain from pointing out the ways you could improve, and you'll refrain from being insufferable, yes?" He smirked, but took a parchment and quill, drawing up a chart of the week. "So let's figure this out. Mother said she could watch Teddy through the days on Tuesdays and Wednesdays until I finish work here at St Mungo's. The Potions Lab rarely needs me to stay late, so I should be able to care for Teddy in the evenings those days. We're making him up a room in the Manor and will keep him overnight."

He looked at Harry expectantly, then nodded to the parchment. The man simply stared at him like a simpleton.

"Er-yeah. Sorry." He shook his head like a dog. "My schedule isn't usually static, but I've talked to my superior, and he's made arrangements to keep me on lighter assignments that don't require after-hours work while Andromeda is ill. I'll pay for it later with all the shite jobs when this is over, I'm sure, but for now, I shouldn't have to worry about getting called away nights and weekends."

Draco raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue.

"So yeah, I'm available pretty much any night. Molly can take him on the weekdays when your mother can't. She's already watching Fleur's daughter periodically, and she swears two children are easier to keep occupied than one."

Draco wrote down _M Weasley_ next to the Monday, Thursday, and Friday daytime slots, and _Potter_ next to the evenings.

"So I suppose we should alternate weekends, so you can keep up with your fabulous social calendar," he said with a sneer, thinking, with a stab of envy, about all the fabulous parties he was sure the man attended.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Hardly. I can take the weekends—unless you have something special you'd like to do with him then."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. Surely Potter wasn't willing to give up his entire weekend, _every_ weekend, to take care of a child, even if it was his godson. "I can't have you playing the martyr, Potter, honestly. Why don't I pick him up from the Weasleys'"—he was quite proud of himself for not wrinkling his nose as he said that— "on Fridays after work, and you can take him Saturday at lunch. We can meet here, if you like, and give him a chance to see Andromeda, then switch off."

Potter nodded. "That sounds reasonable."

_Reasonable, indeed. Of course, it was reasonable._ Draco held in a sneer, as that would hardly be productive. "Mother has indicated she'd like to have him to herself for an evening, likely Sunday, so we'll take him back early evening Sundays, giving you and me both a chance to have some quiet before the new work week."

Potter smiled. "That's kind of her." He hesitated, clearly trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "It's kind of you both, Malfoy. You don't have to do this, and the fact you are, for someone you hardly know—"

"She's family, Potter."

Oddly enough, that response seemed to placate the man, as he gave him a huge smile. Draco's breathing hitched. He'd never seen Potter smile like that, where it reached his eyes with no mocking or sarcasm. It looked good on him.

"Yeah, she is." Potter paused, appearing to think about something, then visibly nodded, but his voice sounded unsure. "Malfoy, if we're going to be working together on this, do you think you could call me Harry? I think it might help separate us from who were to each other before."

Draco thought about it. He did feel his hackles rise every time he heard 'Malfoy' in that grating voice. It sounded like lost snitches, hippogriff scratches, and sneers in the Great Hall. "All right," he hated the sound of hesitation in his own voice and cleared his throat, "I guess I could try that, _Harry_. But it's only fair if it goes both ways." He took a deep breath, then plunged forward. "Please call me Draco, if you like."

There was that smile again, and Draco wondered how he was supposed to look away. The man's smiling eyes were fucking annoyingly magnetic.

"Hold on." Draco felt he needed to interrupt this love-fest before it got out of hand. "There's no reason to go all Hufflepuff on me. It's a bloody name. Don't go embroidering it on cushions or anything."

And instead of getting annoyed, Potter—no, Harry—laughed, throwing his head back a bit and exposing his Adam's apple to Draco's attention. The man couldn't even laugh discreetly. _Honestly._

"I'll try to control myself, I promise," Potter finally got out as he finished laughing.

Draco took a sip of the tea that had now gone completely cold and restrained himself from spitting it out. Pushing it away, he took his watch out of his pocket to check the time. The Healers had asked for another twenty minutes before they returned.

Harry seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "So, the Potions Lab at St Mungo's, huh? That's a great job. Congratulations."

Draco tried to keep himself from preening at the praise, but it _was_ a great job. Those positions were hard to get, and with his background, it was amazing he'd gotten hired. It only showed how hard he'd worked and what kind of name he was already making for himself in the field. He'd even had his first paper published last month on the new dragon pox treatment he'd helped create. At only twenty-three years old, it was an accomplishment to be proud of.

He realised he'd sat in silence too long, as Harry looked ready to apologise. "Thank you, Harry. Yes, I'm very proud of it, and I like the challenge of creating something quickly when the need arises."

Harry nodded.

"And I really like knowing what I brew helps someone." Draco shut his mouth in surprise, wondering where the hell that had come from. It was true, but not something he'd usually go around sharing.

However, this time it brought that blinding smile back, making him feel like a puppy who made his master pleased. He wanted to punch Potter for making him feel that way, but it felt too good.

"Yeah, that's the favourite part of my job, too. I like doing what I'm good at, don't get me wrong, and I'm _damned_ good."

And there was the cocky bastard Draco recognised. But for some reason, instead of annoying him, it made him want to laugh.

"But it doesn't feel good unless I'm able to help someone." Harry hesitated, then met Draco's eyes. "And I _like_ to feel good."

Draco sat up and narrowed his eyes. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Nah, just playing with you," Harry said with a laugh. "I prefer my dates to be lower maintenance."

Draco glared but didn't argue. He wasn't high maintenance, per se; he just knew how to take care of himself. There was nothing wrong with that. "So Neanderthals. Got it."

This time Harry's laugh sounded like a bark and had people turning their way. "Touché, Mal—er, Draco. Though I will say I've always had a thing for blonds, both men and women; so, you _know_ —" And then the man had the audacity to wink at him.

"Oh, fuck you, Potter," he said with a laugh. They grinned at each other and he looked around, suddenly realising he was sitting down and having (questionable) tea with Harry Potter, and he was beginning to enjoy himself. He looked up into the deep green twinkling eyes and couldn't stop the next words out of his mouth. "What happened to your glasses?"

Harry flickered his eyelashes like an arse and gave him a ridiculous smile that made Draco's stomach flutter. " _Aww_ , Draco, I'm touched you noticed. Muggle contact lenses are what happened. They make being an Auror so much easier." He looked at his watch. "I think it's probably time now. I need to tell Andromeda we have everything worked out, then go and get Teddy. Since it's already Thursday, I'll take him to Molly's tomorrow, and you'll pick him up from there after work, as planned?"

"Correct," Draco said with a nod. "Go on, then, and I'll be down in a few minutes. I'm sure you'd like a few minutes alone with her."

Harry smiled. "I would, thank you. I reckon I'll see you on Saturday then." He stood up and offered his hand. "It's been nice, Draco."

Draco took the hand in front of him and considered. "Yes. See you Saturday."

Harry turned and left, and Draco stared after him. It felt like a major shift in his life had just occurred, and he wasn't sure how.

* * *

"I'm sorry to hear about your aunt, Draco. What exactly _is_ breast cancer, anyway?"

Draco looked up at his oldest friend and shrugged off the attempted sympathy. It wasn't Pansy's strong point, and he didn't expect it from her. "It's much more common amongst Muggles, evidently. The Healers say they usually have ways of vanishing the tumours that are basically attacking her body, but it's too far spread in Aunt Andromeda for them to do that in this case. Instead, they have to do a series of spells that shrink them over a period of time before they can vanish them, and she needs constant observation. It's serious, but if she were Muggle and it was this far spread, they said she'd not even have a chance to recover, like she does now."

"And so you're stuck playing pass the Quaffle with Harry Potter for the next eight weeks caring for her grandson?" Pansy sat back thoughtfully. "Are you going to befriend him? It could be useful to your plans for moving upward in your department." She smiled. "He's political gold, you know."

He wondered at the flare of annoyance he felt at the suggestion and shrugged it off. It was a perfectly reasonable consideration. "I think that's hardly a possibility, Pansy. This is Potter we're talking about. We'll likely end up killing each other before it's over, and poor little Teddy will be caught in the middle." He rubbed at his left forearm distractedly. "There's too much standing between us," he muttered, then looked up. "Doesn't matter, though, really. We've agreed to at least try to get along for Teddy's sake, and we likely won't see each other often, as we'll both be picking him up most days from whoever is watching him while we work. Mother is looking forward to the opportunity to have a small child to play with, I think."

Pansy shrugged. "I suppose. So, how is it going with Bertram? Are you going to bring him around for tea soon?"

The change of subject should have settled Draco, but instead, it just disgusted him to think about that arse he'd been dating. "Hardly. I've told him it's better if we don't continue our relationship any further."

She raised her brows in encouragement for him to continue.

"Let us just say he was more interested in dating my Mark than dating me."

This time, the surprise in Pansy's face was real. " _Real_ -ly? That's…ah…hmm…"

"Quite." Draco gave a little sigh. "People seem to want to date me because of who I was—either because of the thrill of it or because they still believe in those asinine ideals—or they don't even want to give me the time of day."

"Draco—"

"No, Pansy. I'm done for now. If it's going to happen, it'll happen in its own time. I'm tired of looking for something more when it's not there to be found."

Pansy stifled a scoff. "I still don't understand your insistence that you find some kind of romance in a relationship. It should be a business transaction and nothing more. Make sure you can stomach them, that they have something to add to your life, then settle the logistics. You have plenty of friends to fill the rest of your time, and if you find someone you fall in love with later— well, there's no saying you can't have both. For now, you need someone that'll be your partner in helping you grow your career, and will appear on your arm when you go to parties."

He looked at Pansy fondly and stopped himself from reaching out to tuck her short black hair behind her ear. She was so _practical_ and _logical_ , but that meant she was correct in this instance; she just didn't understand. She _couldn't_ understand. He wanted _more_. He'd seen what practical and logical and reasonable looked like in a marriage. He would _not_ live as his parents had. He'd have more. He'd have something extraordinary, or he'd have nothing at all. So for now, he was settling on the 'nothing'.

"Don't worry about it, Pansy." He decided to change the subject. "Now, I will have Teddy here tomorrow evening and plan on teaching him how to properly pick flowers and herbs for potions. Would you like to come help?"

She looked horrified. "With a five-year-old child? Circe, no. Good luck to you, though. I'm sure it sounds lovely."

He laughed, as she looked like she thought it'd be anything _but_ lovely. They spent some more time chatting about friends, discussing world events, and generally enjoying each other's company. _This_ , he thought. _This is what I'm looking for. I want a lover who's also decent company. Someone who can be my friend and isn't insufferable to be around, like Bertram was. But also someone who makes everything feel different._ He'd just have to wait patiently, he supposed. It was a pity patience had never been one of his strong suits, he mused.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

_The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right place but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.  
— Dorothy Nevill_

* * *

Harry sat down in Scooter's Coffee and Used Bookstore with his tea and biscuits. The quaint cafe was just down the street from the hospital, and his small round table was nestled into a bay window, allowing Harry to watch the cold, rainy Sunday afternoon traffic and take in the smell of old books and freshly-brewed drinks. He'd just finished taking Teddy to see his grandmother at St Mungo's, but after Mrs Malfoy had arrived, Teddy's attention had been diverted to his Auntie Cissy who always seemed to have fun toys for him in her bags. Harry'd had two years to get used to Andromeda's sister's presence, but he still found himself surprised she was so easy with Teddy.

He took a sip of his tea and watched the rain drip down the window, willing himself to relax. It'd been ten days since Andromeda had been admitted to the hospital, which meant ten days of passing Teddy back and forth like a tennis ball between Malfoy Manor, Grimmauld Place, and the Burrow. The poor kid was starting to show the weariness the lack of routine was causing, but overall, he seemed to be enjoying the extra attention he was getting from everyone.

Harry, on the other hand, was finding himself restless. He was on light duty at work, and he was unused to so much downtime. Teddy was in bed before nine most evenings when he was home, and Harry was missing the distraction a difficult case usually offered him. So here he sat, loathe to return home to an empty house. Ron and Hermione weren't an option these days, either, as they'd just returned from their honeymoon and he didn't want to intrude on their newly-married bliss. They needed their space, and he was trying to give it to them, even if they hadn't asked.

The bell on the door to the cafe rang and Harry noticed someone step into his peripheral vision, dripping water and looking miserable. Harry looked back out at the rain, returning to his thoughts and tea.

"Harry."

He looked up, surprised.

"Draco!" It'd taken a few days, but the name came easier to him now, though the man in front of him was barely recognisable as the man he'd been trading Teddy with all week. "What happened to you?"

"Rain, Potter. _Rain_ happened to me. May I sit with you?"

"Uh, of course." Harry moved his chair slightly, making room for the other man as he took the seat across from him. "Can I get you some tea?"

"I've just ordered, thank you. They promised to bring it over. How these Muggles get around without magic will never cease to amaze me. It's miserable out there, and I figured an Impervious Charm would be too obvious. You don't suppose I could pop back to the loo and get away with a quick-drying charm, could I?"

Harry laughed. "Hardly. Give it a few minutes then try it on your clothes, but not your hair. No one should notice then."

Draco nodded and sighed as his tea was delivered to the table. "Thank you." He glanced at the waitress and gave her a grateful smile.

She giggled. "Of course. Is there, ah, anything else I can get you?" She tucked her hair behind her ear and waited with a hopeful look.

The man didn't seem to notice the attempt at flirting and dismissed her with a quiet word of dissent.

"She likes you."

Draco grunted. "Not interested."

"Why, because she's Muggle?" Harry asked quietly, wincing at the sound of accusation in his voice.

Steel grey eyes shot him a level look. "No, Harry, she's a woman, and as such, I'm. Not. Interested." The look had turned into a glare. "Do you think I still have a problem with Muggles?" He sneered. "Are you afraid I'll teach your godson to be—"

"No!" Harry cut him off before he could continue, and felt guilty. "I'm sorry, but not having a problem with and wanting to date are two entirely different things."

Draco stared at him, then nodded. "Yes, they are, and for what it's worth, I don't think I could date a Muggle. But not because they don't have magic, but because we'd be too different, and I just don't think we'd understand each other all that well."

Harry felt slightly chastened, but also surprisingly pleased. "So what changed?"

They sat in silence for several minutes, and Harry assumed that Draco was done discussing it. They both sipped their drinks and watched the rain.

Finally, Draco spoke. "I did some travelling before I started my advanced studies. I spent several months in different cities throughout the continent, and I stayed mostly in Muggle youth hostels. I just wanted to lose myself, forget where I had come from, what I had done, and it was the easiest way. I kept to myself mostly, but I met a few people that I considered friends for a while. It opened my eyes, I suppose you could say, to experiences outside what I'd previously known."

Harry felt a flicker of jealousy, but he wasn't sure what he was jealous _of_. Was it the ability to travel? To be anonymous? To be Draco's friend? He nodded, though, and smiled.

"That sounds lovely. I've not ever had the opportunity to do something like that. I'm glad you did."

Draco met his eyes, grey meeting emerald green, and held them. "So am I," he said quietly, then moved his eyes back to the rain. "But that doesn't mean I didn't miss the convenience of magic." He cleared his throat and sat up straight, glancing back to Harry. "Anyway, I'm glad I caught you. My mother said she'd recommended this place and suggested I might find you here. Do you mind if we switch nights this week with Teddy? I have a late work meeting on Tuesday, so if I could take him tomorrow evening and you take him Tuesday, that'd be ideal."

Harry shrugged. "Works for me. Do you want me to drop him with Narcissa early Tuesday morning, then?"

Long fingers tapped the table as Draco seemed to consider the schedule. "It might be easiest if I pick him up and bring him home late Monday night. I'll be done around nine. I can come to get him then."

Harry shook his head. "Nah, I'll just bring him over to the Manor and help put him to bed. I've gotten quite skilled at travelling by Floo while he sleeps, and he'll likely be out by then. Nine o'clock, then?"

"Perfect. Thank you, Harry, for being flexible."

He laughed. "No reason not to be. It's not a problem, really." Harry stood and smiled. "Well, I'm done here, I think. The rain seems to have let up, so I'll be off before it starts again."

Draco stood as well and followed him to the door, wrapping his still wet coat around him. "Tomorrow, then, Potter. Good evening."

"Good evening, _Draco_."

Harry walked down the pavement, avoiding puddles and losing himself in thoughts. Draco Malfoy had spent time backpacking through Muggle Europe. Who the hell would have imagined that? And why the hell did Harry find that so interesting?

* * *

Harry sat next to the bathtub, periodically vanishing the water that suddenly splashed onto the floor in front of him. Teddy squealed and used his toy submarine to crash once more into the Hippogriff he had floating on the surface of the water. Bubbles and water flew in all directions, and Harry laughed.

"Teddy, mate, you need to keep the water in the tub."

"Okay, Uncle Harry, but Draco says that making a big mess in the tub means you get cleaner and have more fun. He says it's nothing magic can't clean up. Is that true?"

"Uh, I guess," Harry said with a laugh, unsure of what to make of that statement. It certainly didn't sound like something he'd expect Malfoy to say. _Not Malfoy, Draco,_ he reminded himself. Maybe that made the difference. He wasn't really Malfoy now, was he? They'd both changed a lot since school, and everyone deserved a chance to be different than they once were, to grow up.

And Draco had definitely grown up. He was quite attractive now, actually, though if Harry were to be completely honest with himself, he had to admit that Draco had always been good-looking. His attitude and behaviour had repulsed Harry from any attraction he might have felt when they were young—not that he'd admitted to himself back then that he also liked men—but he'd always noticed Malfoy. Always. _Hmph._

Harry stood and began cleaning up the bathroom, then picked up the towel to help Teddy out of his bath. The boy's hair was black and messy at the moment, and Harry smiled to himself. Teddy didn't generally morph much unless he was really trying, but his hair was the exception and often reflected his thoughts or mood. Harry thought back to Tonk's pink hair and felt a small pang of sadness. Pushing it away, he towelled the black hair as the child chatted about his toys, Bill and Fleur's daughter Victoire, and brooms. The conversation was mostly one-sided, so Harry made the appropriate noises and let the little boy wear himself out, slowly moving them both to the bedroom to put on pyjamas.

"Uncle Harry, you said I was sleeping at Draco's and Auntie Cissy's tonight. Why am I putting on my 'jamas now?"

"Because Draco won't be home until after you're already asleep. I'm going to take you over and put you in your bed there when he gets home. Does that sound all right?"

"Mm-hmm. I like my room there. It's fun.

Lifting the boy up onto Harry's enormous bed, Harry hesitated. "Do you want your own room here? I have plenty of them, buddy."

Teddy shook his head vehemently. "No way. It's okay over there, but I like sleeping in your bed, Uncle Harry. You're the best Auror ever, and I feel super safe when I sleep with you. And you hug me when I get bad dreams, and I like that."

Harry's throat clenched at that statement, so innocent and so perfectly what he needed to hear. He sat down next to his godson and picked up the picture book they'd picked out. "I like that, too, Teddy Bear. If you ever change your mind, you just tell me, okay?" He waited for the boy to nod, then opened the story. "Now, are you sure you want this book again?"

"Yes! The boy is just like me. Rawwwr!"

"All right, then, settle down. Are you comfortable? Yes? Here goes. 'The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind or another…'"

* * *

Harry carried a sleeping Teddy through the Floo into Narcissa's sitting room, having made this same trip several times now. Instead of Narcissa, however, Draco greeted him. His robes had been discarded, and his button-up shirt was open at the neck, sleeves rolled up. He clearly hadn't been home long, but he'd obviously attempted to make himself more comfortable.

"Harry," he greeted in hushed tones. "Do you know where his room is?"

Harry shook his head, then followed Draco as he turned and ushered him out of the room. They walked to the grand stairs, and remembering his earlier musings, he tried not to notice Draco's extremely fit rear end as he climbed the steps before him. Adjusting Teddy into a more comfortable position, Harry continued to stare as they ascended, hardly aware that Draco was speaking to him until they'd stopped mid-climb.

Draco turned and cocked an eyebrow. "Hello?" His tone was dry and seemingly amused. "I asked if you wanted to stay for a drink after we put him to bed, but you appear to be too busy staring at my arse to hear me."

Harry blushed and shrugged. "And a fine arse it is, perfectly shaped and toned. Though you're the one who chose to climb in front of me instead of beside me, so I figured you were showing it off." Harry gave him a grin. "And yes, a drink would be appreciated, thank you."

He received an eye roll in return, then a smirk as they resumed their ascent, Draco still in front. He seemed to be adding a bit of a clench to each step now, making Harry laugh. Who would have guessed Malfoy had such a sense of humour about such things?

At the top of the stairs, they made their way down a large corridor lined with family portraits, most sleeping. The third door on the left was opened, and Draco led Harry into a room clearly meant for a child. There was a low light glowing next to the bed, and shelves of books and toys lining the wall.

Harry crossed the room to the large bed and waited as Draco pulled back the coverlet, allowing Harry to lay Teddy down. He tucked him in, then ran his hand through the tousled hair, now the boy's natural brown. He stood staring for a moment, then stepped back, surprised to see Draco watching him.

Harry smiled. "He looks so big sometimes, then I see him like this, in this large bed, sound asleep, and I remember how small he still is, and how much he still has to grow. It's an amazing thing."

Draco stared at him, and he felt self-conscious at his ruminations. Attempting to change the subject, he looked around. "Was this your room as a child? It's beautiful."

Finally breaking the stare, the other man looked around and gave a nod. "Yes, until I was eight and father felt it was time I move to the Heir's Suite." He hesitated, then looked at Harry again. "But some of my best childhood memories are in this room." He turned for the door. "Come on, let's get that drink."

They ended up in a library of sorts, though Harry assumed it was likely a personal office. He'd never understand why these rich manors had so many names for the same damned room. Either way, it was comfortable, with a plush, deep-burgundy rug and a warm fire burning. Draco gestured to a pair of chairs by the fire.

"What can I get you? I'm having a glass of Cabernet, but I have anything you might like."

"The Cabernet sounds wonderful, thank you." Harry looked around. "So how many libraries do you have here? Your mother's sitting room practically counts as one, and I know I've seen at least one other. That's a lot of books."

Draco chuckled, but it didn't sound sarcastic as Harry had expected. "Yes, a lot of books. My family are collectors and have been for generations. This is _my_ office," Harry gave himself a mental high-five for getting that right, "and I mostly keep books I use regularly here. There are some of my favourite novels, my Potions and Herbology texts, as well as other items I'd like easily accessible."

Harry stood and walked to the bookshelf, perusing some of the titles. "These all seem very, uh, well…" He couldn't find the word he wanted without offending.

"Light?" Draco asked with a sardonic tone.

He shrugged. "Well, yeah. I expected to see at least some of the books that I inherited with Grimmauld Place."

"Yes, well, those would be in the family's private library." He gave Harry a challenging look. "Are you going to ask to see them?"

"If it's private, why would I ask to see them?" Harry asked, slightly confused at the challenge.

"Well, _Auror_ Potter, to see if I have anything dark?"

Harry felt his confusion turn to hurt, then to irritation, then spike into fury within a moment. "You think that I would come into your home with my godchild, accept a drink from you as your guest, then _spy_ to see if you had something dark that I could turn in?" He set his glass down hard onto the table, spilling a bit, and stood. "Fuck you. If that's what you think of me, then I can see that I was sorely mistaken in what I thought might be a new friendship. If you'll excuse me, I'll leave so you can be sure I'm not here to search your fucking house."

Harry stalked across the room and Malfoy stood in silence, but when he reached for the door, the handle wouldn't turn. Spinning around, Harry nearly reached for his wand in his anger. Malfoy's hands were out in front of him, showing he was unarmed, so Harry dropped his arm cautiously.

"Let. Me. Out." He could hear the menace in his own voice and didn't care.

"Potter— _Harry_." Malfoy said quietly. "I apologise. I don't really think that's why you accepted the drink. I don't know what came over me." He raised his chin and turned to look out the window. "I guess I'm still somewhat caught up in our past. There was a time when you'd do exactly that and come here to find information."

Harry deflated nearly as fast as his anger had grown. Draco was right. There was a time when he would have done that; when he _did_ do that. Memories of his sixth year flashed through his mind, and he tried to smile, though he was pretty sure he'd missed the mark a bit.

"You're right. I'm sorry I got so angry." Harry took a deep breath. "Shall we start again? Maybe you missed the part where I said I had some of those darker tomes in my _own_ library?"

Draco nodded. "I suppose I did. I'm surprised."

"Why? Magic is magic, right?" Harry sat back down and picked up his abandoned drink. "Look, I know Dumbledore was all about the light, but for me, the light is your intent. I never understood dark magic or light magic. You can kill just as easily with a levitation charm as you can with an AK. Easier, in fact, as it takes a lot less magic."

Draco stared at him in astonishment.

"What?"

"It's just not what I expected to hear from the Gryffindor golden boy."

"Yeah, well, that golden boy hadn't been an Auror and seen what supposedly good people could do and try to explain away as okay, simply because the spell wasn't dark." Harry brushed away the memories that tried to surface, as he always did. "The world isn't black and white, is it?"

Draco sat down again with his wine. "No, it's not."

Harry looked at his own glass. "Do you have something slightly stronger?"

"Yes, I believe I do," Draco said with a small smile, then got up to walk to his liquor cabinet. "So, tell me about being an Auror."

Harry sat back and began to talk about his day.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

_Conversation should touch everything, but should concentrate itself on nothing.  
-Oscar Wilde_

* * *

"Do you hear that, Harry? That, my dear fellow, is quiet." Draco heaved a long sigh. "Remind me to thank my mother for her Sunday afternoons with the child. Teddy is a _lot_ more work than I'd anticipated."

Harry laughed as he held the door for Draco and they entered the same cafe they'd met in a couple of weeks prior. "He can be, yes. But he's always worth it." He gestured to the tables near the window. "Why don't you get us a table, and I'll get us some tea."

"I'd prefer an espresso if you don't mind."

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise, then nodded and turned to the counter, ordering them each their drink and some biscuits. He returned to the table Draco had picked and noticed it was the one furthest from any other guests. He set the coffee down in front of Draco, who took the cup and sipped at the slightly frothy layer, then gave Harry a small smile.

"Thanks. These things are addictive. It's probably the biggest vice I've brought back with me from France."

Harry laughed. "I don't mind a cup occasionally, but I don't think I'd choose it over tea." He took a drink of his own cup, then cocked his head, curious. "So if this is the biggest vice, what are the smaller ones?"

Draco smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

They sat laughing quietly together, and Harry just soaked up the feeling of companionship he was beginning to recognise whenever they talked together.

"Seriously, though. The Potions Master I was studying under had three apprentices. The woman was Muggle-born and had electricity set up in her flat. We all lived in the same building, so we spent a lot of time together. She introduced me to her appliances, including her espresso machine, and even better, her television. I was somewhat addicted, I admit."

Harry nearly choked on his tea. "You watch the telly?" he asked incredulously.

"I do." He took another sip, then continued. "Well, I _did_. I can't really set it up at the Manor, can I? But I love films best."

Harry grinned, amused at the idea of Draco Malfoy watching films on the telly. He remembered with fondness the first time he'd shown Arthur Weasley one, then thought about the strangeness of pure-bloods and technology.

"Draco," he began, "maybe you can help me with something. I've always wondered why the magical world doesn't adapt to technology more, and I don't usually get clear answers about things like this from the Weasleys." He took another sip of his tea then picked up a biscuit. "To someone who grew up in the Muggle world, it doesn't make sense. I mean, there's some technology wizards use, right? We take a train to Hogwarts, for example, and we adapt other items that are Muggle-invented and make magical versions. "

"Like what?" Draco looked genuinely curious.

Harry thought about it as he chewed. "Well, like the lifts in the Ministry. They are designed around Muggle lifts, but they run on magic. Or cameras that take magical pictures. Magical clocks, cookers, the wireless… we even have magical automobiles, though I suspect those are simply enchanted Muggle vehicles. Why are those okay, when things like telephones, computers, and televisions are completely alien to the magical world?"

"Well, I believe a couple of your examples were actually magically invented, and someone made a non-magical version and sold it in the Muggle world. The wireless has been around nearly two hundred years, and if my memory serves me, Muggles didn't have an equivalent until nearly one hundred years later."

Harry pondered that for a moment, then nodded. "Interesting. I had no idea. But the others?"

Draco seemed to think about it for several moments, and Harry let him take the time. He watched the light reflect off his hair and wondered at the darker tones it seemed to have compared to when he'd been younger. It was more traditionally blond now, not nearly white. Harry liked it but found himself missing the silvery glint it used to have. It had played so well off the steely-grey eyes that practically sparked when angry.

"What? Do I have something in my hair?"

"Huh?" Harry pulled himself out of his reverie, confused.

"You were staring at my hair. Is there something in it?"

Harry could feel himself starting to blush, recognising he'd indeed been staring and wondering at the direction his thoughts had gone. "Ah, no, I was just wondering why it's darker than when we were kids."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Interesting of you to notice." He smirked. "If you _must_ know, I've been getting lowlights added to my hair." He hesitated, then shrugged. "It's more comfortable for me to not look as much like my father."

Harry didn't know what to say to that but put it away into the Malfoy bucket he'd been unconsciously forming in his mind the past few weeks.

"So I think the problem is the complexity of the machine," Draco returned to their conversation, obviously trying to ignore the mention of his father. "If it's a working piece of machinery, wizards can enchant them to work in different manners without changing the core of the item, so you get a magical camera or an enchanted car that still functions as it was intended, but with magically enhanced features. But the technology Muggles make now is different, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. He'd been working with Head Auror Robards to create a technology division in the Auror Department over the last year that would deal with cases that concerned—or were related to—computers and the Internet. He'd done a good deal of research on the changes in computer technology over the past year and had to agree with Draco that it was indeed vastly different than the machinery of the previous century.

He thought about how to explain it to Draco. "Actually, very different would probably be a huge understatement. The technology now is mostly programmed logic. You'd have to understand the programming language, and at that point, there's no reason to enchant it, as you could likely just program it to do what you want. But that doesn't explain why we don't use it, even if we don't enchant it."

"The people in charge don't like change," Malfoy said with a grin. " _Duh._ "

"Well, _that's_ the truth," Harry laughed. "I guess I should just be glad I know how to use it and enjoy my telly. You should have seen the fit my house-elf had when I had the electricity rigged up in Grimmauld Place."

"You have a house-elf? I'd think Granger wouldn't let you get away with that."

"I inherited him with the house, but he's so old, he doesn't really do much but complain. And hadn't you heard? She's Granger-Weasley now. They got married in October."

Draco shrugged. "She'll always be Granger to me. So you have a telly in the old Black townhouse? I'd love to see that. I'm sure my ancestors are turning in their graves." He smiled. "I love it."

"Well, perhaps we can have a movie night with Teddy next week. Come and stay for dinner when you drop him off Monday evening. There's a fish cartoon movie that's supposed to be really good that I just got on DVD."

Draco cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "Dinner and a movie, Potter? How should I dress? Should I bring flowers?"

Harry wadded up a napkin and threw it at him. "Idiot. Dress however you want, I'm sure Teddy won't mind, and flowers are always lovely." He laughed. "You arse."

* * *

Movie night was a hit. Harry had ordered a pizza and picked it up on his way home from work, then he'd decided they needed a nice bottle of wine to go with it. It wasn't anything special, of course, just something adults did when they had friends over for dinner.

_Friends._ Draco Malfoy was his friend. It was kind of mind-blowing to think about, and if the word didn't seem to fit quite right, then that was just because he'd not had a friend quite like this before. Someone who knew him and didn't expect him to be The Great Harry Potter, but at the same time, someone who _didn't_ know him well, and still had some mystery. Someone who challenged him and gave him a thrill of excitement at their differing points of view. It was fun.

The friend in question sat with him now at the other end of the sofa, drinking a glass of wine and watching him expectantly. Teddy had fallen asleep during _Finding Nemo_ , but Harry and Draco had finished the movie without him and put him to bed.

"Harry? You're staring."

Harry shook his head and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, long day. My mind just wandered."

"I can go. It's not even nine o'clock, but—"

"No! No, sorry, it's fine. Normally I spend the evening working on case files or refurbishing the house, but I don't have any big cases right now and I obviously can't work on refinishing the floors in the dining room with Teddy asleep down the hall, so…" He trailed off and shrugged. "So when you don't have a kid around, what do _you_ do in the evening?"

Draco appeared to think about it, tilting his head to the side. "Well, I visit with Pansy, or sometimes Blaise. I help Mother with upkeep around the Manor, or I work on whatever potions project I have going at the time."

Harry nodded. "No hot dates?"

"Not quite," Draco said with a laugh. "Back in France, when I was working on my Mastery, I dated somewhat. French men have a certain flair I found interesting, but we didn't usually have enough in common to do more than have a good time." He took a sip of his wine. "I've dated a few since I've been home, but, well, it's been less than ideal. You?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's hard enough being single and finding someone you connect with. Factor in my name, and well—"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Surely you're not telling me someone of your reputation doesn't date."

"I date," Harry said defensively, "just… not regularly. My last two relationships were the result of being set up by friends, and neither lasted more than a few months. The first one, she was fun to be with, but she just didn't fit right. She seemed to always expect something from me I wasn't able to give." He ran his hand through his hair in irritation at the memory. "After that was Michael Corner, from Ravenclaw?"

Draco nodded, acknowledging the shared acquaintance. Harry continued.

"Yeah, well, I had been with a couple of men before that, but he was my first relationship with one. Ginny set us up, actually." A snort came from the end of the couch and Harry chuckled. "It was a good match, in theory. We had a lot in common, and knew a lot of the same people, but, well…" Harry thought about how he wanted to say it. "He was a bit of a wanker to Teddy, honestly. He clearly didn't want a kid around." He met Draco's eye. "We're kind of a set, Teddy and I. I know he's not my son—it's not like I'm a single parent or anything—but I'm not willing to date someone who doesn't accept he's part of my life. He's mine as much as he'd be if he _were_ my son."

Grey eyes continued to stare at him for several moments, then Draco gave him a slight smile, making Harry's stomach jump just a bit. "I think that's clear to anyone who sees the two of you together, Harry, and if Corner couldn't deal with that, then he's an arse."

"Most definitely," Harry said with a little laugh. "Ginny is still apologising for that one. Evidently she thought it'd be funny if two of her ex-boyfriends were to date." He got up and poured himself another glass of wine. "So Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, huh? What are they up to these days?"

Draco seemed surprised he'd asked, so Harry made sure to be obvious about paying attention. He knew how important his friends were to him, and if Draco was the same, well, it was only polite to show interest.

"Pansy is doing well, thank you. She mostly invests in projects of various kinds. What project she's interested in changes from month to month, mostly, but she jumps in and pours in the money, brings in talent, gets the business or project up and working, then moves on to her next bit of excitement. She keeps tabs on it and reaps the dividends, but after the initial interest, she pays it little attention again. I think she uses it as a fix—a high of sorts—but she's good at it, and it's not potions or Muggle illegals, or anything overly unhealthy, so we mostly just watch, amused."

He sipped his wine, then continued. "Blaise does the same, really, but with people instead of business projects. He jumps from relationship to relationship and throws himself fully into the other person until it fizzles suddenly, then he moves on to the next man or woman that can catch his interest. He doesn't work, though he does write articles for a fine food and wine magazine on the continent."

He considered Draco's descriptions and wondered at the ex-Slytherins' choices. He understood how hard it'd been for his classmates to move on from the war, and each found their solace in different ways. Harry had found his comfort in his job and in refurbishing Grimmauld Place. Draco seemed to have found his in his own work, and in caring for his Mother.

Draco put his foot up and nudged Harry's, getting his attention. "What of _your_ friends? I'd imagined your home being a boarding house of sorts for your Defense Club graduates—or at least a hub for your Trio."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hardly. I do keep in touch with most of our group from school, but many of us work together anyway. And yeah, Ron and Hermione are often around here, but they just got married last month and got back from their honeymoon in Australia a couple of weeks ago. Hermione's parents lived there for part of the war, and when she brought them back after, she and Ron fell in love with the place. I don't really think I'll see much of them until after the holidays. They have a lot of work to catch up on, and well, you know—newlyweds." Harry smirked. "I don't fancy seeing Ron's bare arse again like the last time I dropped in, even after I was invited, so I'm keeping my distance for now."

Draco laughed. "Merlin, no. That would put me off sex for years. Best to stay away, I agree."

"Pretty much. I did get a pint with Neville yesterday after work, and hey, I'm having dinner and a movie with you, so my social calendar is filling up well enough without them." He smiled. "Oh, and thank you again for the flowers. You do realise, though, that Teddy's going to tell everyone you brought me flowers now."

A cunning smile slid over the other man's face. "No, he won't. I put a notice-me-not charm on them. Teddy didn't even see them."

Harry sat back, surprised. "That was, ah, smart. Well, they _are_ beautiful, so thank you. I can't say I've ever had someone bring me flowers." He looked around and glanced at the telly, still showing the blank blue screen left from the end of the movie. He really didn't want the night to be over just yet. "Do you want to watch something? I think there's a funny show on right now that you might like. It's American, but it fits our conversation." He grinned. "It's called Friends, and I'm pretty sure you'll like Chandler."

Draco nodded eagerly. "Sure, sounds good." He looked at Harry and met his eyes, making Harry's stomach flutter again. "And Harry, thanks for tonight. It's been fun." He turned to the television as Harry flipped the station, then settled in. "Now, which one is Chandler?"

* * *

"Draco darling, is that you?"

Narcissa peaked into her son's office and smiled as she watched him meticulously brush soot off his robes, then walk towards her. "Yes, Mother. Why are you still awake? You usually retire earlier than this."

She took his arm and pulled him closer for a light kiss to the cheek. "Yes, well, I was caught up in my reading and lost track of time." She smiled. "As did you, apparently. It's past eleven, dear, and you rarely stay out this late when you're working." She patted his shoulder as she let him lead her up the stairs to her bed chambers. "Are you seeing someone again?"

He laughed. " _No,_ Mother. I was spending the evening with Teddy and Harry, if you must know. We played a game with him and watched this delightful film about a fish."

She raised her eyebrow. "And Teddy kept you up this late? Shame on him."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, he's a terrible influence. So did you see Aunt Andromeda this evening? How is she tonight?"

She was feeling generous and let him change the subject. "She's well enough, I suppose. The treatments appear to be working, but they're painful and she's very uncomfortable. She misses Teddy, of course."

"Of course." They fell into silence for a moment and she had a thought of Andromeda stuck in the hospital for the upcoming Christmas holiday. His mind must have been of a similar tilt because he surprised her. "Mother, can you ask her if she ever does anything special with Teddy for Christmas? I want to try to make it as normal for him as possible."

She stopped and looked at him, trying to decide where this had come from. Her son had grown into a good man and she was proud of him, but he didn't often think beyond his own immediate interests. "Draco, that's a wonderful idea, darling. Very thoughtful. I'll ask her tomorrow." She considered her trip into London to see her sister the next day and thought to pick her up some items to decorate her hospital room for the holiday. "Speaking of which, have you finished your gift purchasing yet? Is there anything you need me to pick up while I'm out tomorrow."

He seemed to think about it, then smiled. "Actually, yes, but perhaps you can ask Aunt Andromeda about it when you visit her tomorrow. I'm hoping she has a photograph."

After he left her at her door for the night, she slowly made her way through her evening toilette and smiled to herself. A picture of Harry Potter and young Edward Lupin was Draco's request. Interesting. She wondered if the gift was for Teddy, or for his godfather. She thought back to her son's good mood at his late arrival and her smile grew larger. _Very_ interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading a day early due to the Easter holiday tomorrow. Things are starting to get interesting for our boys in this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

_A conversation is so much more than words: a conversation is eyes, smiles, and the silence between words. -Annika Thor_

* * *

Hermione snuggled into the sofa in Grimmauld Place. She looked around at the comfortable room with the soft glow of the lights on the Christmas tree casting multicoloured shadows on the walls. It still felt strange to be in this room as it was now. Harry had spent eight weeks refurbishing it to its present state. It was much brighter and modern now, even if it lacked personality. Harry didn't seem to mind though, so she quietly added little touches here and there for him when she visited, like the blanket she'd knitted him that she was currently sitting under and planned on conveniently forgetting when she left.

The movie they were watching on the telly was paused as Harry filled their drinks and got snacks. She'd made a trip to the loo and been back several minutes already. "Harry, hurry up! What's taking so long?"

"Settle down, I'm here." He plopped down next to her and handed her a glass of wine. "I decided to slice up some cheese Draco left here last week. I'm sure he won't mind."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. _Draco_ was leaving cheese here? _Interesting._

"Oh, don't go doing that," Harry laughed with a roll of his eyes. "Teddy and I invited him over to watch Finding Nemo. It was perfectly innocent."

"Harry, nothing between you and Malfoy has _ever_ been perfectly innocent, not even when you were eleven. But fine, I believe you." She hesitated, knowing he'd hate this conversation, but feeling the need to have it. It wasn't often she found time with him without Ron, who was currently working late holiday hours at the shop with George. "So if there's nothing going on there, then when are you going to get something going on elsewhere?"

Harry groaned. "Oh, God, not this." Harry turned to glare at her. "As I've told you before, I'm perfectly happy as I am right now. I've got my hands full with Teddy, and work, and refurbishing the house. Just because you and Ron got married, and you practically have hearts in your eyes, doesn't mean you have to start trying to play matchmaker for me again. Please, leave this be."

She sighed and scooted closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. She understood he didn't like to be pushed into these things, but she couldn't quite help herself sometimes. "I just want you to be happy; I love you, and you deserve so much good." She felt him lay his head on top of hers, and she wrapped her arms around his right one, hugging it like a pillow. "You have so much to offer, Harry, if you just give someone the chance."

He gave a little shrug. She could feel the doubt rolling off him. After all these years, he was still so easy for her to read and she squeezed his arm. Her heart broke that, even now, he doubted himself and his worth.

"Listen to me," she said as she pulled back to look at him. "You are a _good man_. You are kind, and loving, and funny, and you care more than anyone else I've ever met." He avoided her gaze, so she reached up to pull his chin so his eyes met hers. "You deserve good things, Harry. What's stopping you?"

He took her hand from his face and held on, but moved his eyes to stare at the Christmas tree. "Other than meeting someone I want to be with?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, other than that, because I know there's been a few people you could have gotten closer to, and you didn't. You pulled back. You haven't dated anyone seriously since Michael, and before that, Laura." She gave him a little nudge with her knee. "You have nearly twice as many people to choose from as the rest of us—since gender doesn't matter—so why aren't you trying to find someone?"

He seemed to really think about it for once instead of just brushing her off, so she waited until he was ready.

"I'm afraid, Hermione," he said quietly. "I'm afraid if I love someone completely, it'll break me. They won't love me back, or they'll leave, or die, and—" He cleared his throat and didn't continue.

She squeezed his hand. "They'll never have the chance to stay, either, if you don't let them in. You don't really let anyone in, Harry. You haven't made any new friends since Hogwarts, have you, and even _those_ you didn't have much choice in."

"Not true," Harry argued. "There's Bartley and Jones. I had drinks with them last month after work—"

"And you still call them by their last names. They're work acquaintances. And the drinks you had were with Neville and the rest of the squad, right?"

He shrugged. "Fine." He considered this, then tilted his chin up in challenge. "Draco. I'm friends with Draco." He moved her off his shoulder and leaned forward to reach for some cheese and crackers off the small table and held them up as though they were evidence. "See? He even comes over sometimes. I have proof." He grinned and shoved the cracker in his mouth.

_Back to Draco, huh?_ She smiled and decided to fish around a bit more. She leaned forward to grab some crackers of her own. "Good. Though I'm not sure if hanging out with Teddy counts."

"It does. We've met for tea a time or two as well—without Teddy, thank you very much. Usually, it was in passing, but we've had some really good conversations and, well, he's kind of fun to talk with."

She laughed. "Talk? Or argue?"

His smile grew larger, and she took notice. "Does it matter? It's good, 'Mione. Really. He likes Muggle television, did you know? He did his Potions Mastery outside Paris with two other students, one of them Muggle-born. They became good friends, and she introduced him to it." He hesitated, appearing to think, then started talking quietly, as if to himself. "He's really changed, and it's like he's determined to be this person people can respect, that _he_ can respect." He glanced at her and his tone returned to normal. "Don't get me wrong. He's as sarcastic and snarky as ever, but, well, the malice behind it is gone." He drifted off again. "He seems happy. I don't know I'd ever really seen him really happy before. Pleased, yes. But happy?"

Hermione watched him carefully. "You like him."

He shook himself a little and looked at her. "Isn't that what I just said?"

She realised he hadn't figured it out yet, and let it go. "Of course. Well, I guess you're right. You're doing well, Harry. Just consider what I was saying? I want to see you happy, and Merlin, I can't wait to see you in love."

He laughed. "Whatever you say. Now, can we finish this movie? I've never seen this part. I've only seen the end when he runs through the streets. When's he going to meet Clarence?"

She sat back beside him again and snuggled down as he started the movie back up. "It's coming up. Now shush. The swimming pool's my favourite part."

Harry leaned his head back onto hers and watched the film. She glanced up at him slightly, watching the Christmas lights flicker on his glasses, then thought of George Bailey. She wondered if Harry could see the similarities.

* * *

"Draco! Uncle Harry, Draco's here! Draco, Uncle Harry put charms on my hair to make it look brown so no one would know I'm magic. Does it look good? Are we really going ice skating, Draco?"

"It looks perfect, Teddy, and of course we're going skating. I wouldn't have said we were otherwise. You're not calling me a liar, are you, cousin?" Draco gave the boy a mock-serious look.

Teddy obviously knew this look and giggled, then stood up straight. "I hope I have not ofdended your honour, good sir," Teddy fumbled.

Draco laughed. "Very good. And it's of-fen-ded. Can you try saying it again?"

"Of-fenf-ded."

"Hmmm… We'll have to try that again later."

Harry moved into the room from where he'd been watching, intrigued by their interaction. He'd known that Teddy liked Draco well enough, but this was really the first time he'd watched them by themselves, without the distractions of other people. Usually, he dropped Teddy with Narcissa, and Draco dropped him with Molly. They only really had a chance to cross paths on the weekends, and of course, last week while watching the movie. He wasn't sure what he'd expected their time alone together to be like, but it wasn't quite what he'd just observed.

"Uncle Harry doesn't know how to ice skate, did you know that, Draco? He didn't have a Gram to take him skating every Christmas like I have. He said he never got the chance when he was a little kid and he's too big to learn now."

Draco shot Harry a surprised look "Really? Uncle Harry's never been ice skating? Well, perhaps we should bring him along with us and see if we can teach him. What do you think, Teddy?"

"Yes!" Huge brown eyes shot up and met Harry's. "Please, Uncle Harry? Will you come too?"

Plans of sitting around and doing absolutely nothing ran through Harry's head. It had sounded good, but now he realised it also sounded lonely. And a day out with Teddy was always fun, if exhausting. Finally, he met Draco's eyes and saw the challenge being aimed his way. Well, shite. He couldn't back down from that, could he? Especially as there was something about it this time, something different than when they were younger. It made an unexpected warmth spread through his stomach and a sharp thrill move up his spine.

"All right, Teddy, I suppose I'll come along. If Draco can do it, how hard can it be, right?"

Draco laughed. "Yes, how hard, indeed?"

* * *

Harry sat on the side of the outdoor ice rink and watched the speeding skaters—the fumbling children, the cuddling couples, and of course, Teddy and Draco. People of all skill levels skated past, some falling, but everyone smiling. He heard a twinkle of laughter above the wind and voices, picking Teddy's small voice out of the din.

"Draco! Look, I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" Teddy was skating in little choppy movements but making progress across the ice towards Draco's outstretched hand.

Harry looked up and watched the man patiently waiting for Teddy, speaking in tones Harry couldn't hear, but which the small boy obviously found encouraging. Draco had a deep blue stocking cap pulled down over his head, short wisps of blond hair escaping the edges and looking slightly ridiculous. The cold air and wind had heightened the pink in his cheeks and nose, and Harry found himself staring at the picture he made. As Teddy finally reached Draco's hand, Draco took the other as well, then slowly skated Teddy in circles, causing the boy to break out in giggles. A genuine smile stretched across the man's face, and Harry was riveted.

Draco looked up and caught Harry's eye, then gestured to the ice with a smirk. Harry took a deep breath and made his way onto the ice. He pushed off, one foot, then the other, and thought it wasn't too difficult. He just needed to concentrate on his balance, but he was used to that when flying. He gained a bit more confidence and looked up at Draco and Teddy, watching him coming toward them.

"Good job, Uncle Harry! You're doing it!" Teddy encouraged, making Harry laugh. He glanced at Draco as he got close but couldn't make out the look on the man's face. Before he could think about it any further, though, he was ploughed into by a couple of teenagers holding hands.

"Fuck!" Harry could barely tell what happened, but one moment he was skating, and the next he was on his back on the ice, his head ringing, staring up at the afternoon sky and trying to catch his breath, while some teen-aged kid stood over him apologising. Posh leather gloves shooed the girl away, then grey eyes and a blue hat moved into his view. "Potter?" Draco sounded strange. Was that panic in his voice? "Harry? Are you alright? Teddy, hold on. We need to make sure he's okay before we help him up, got it?"

"Yeah," came Teddy's voice next to him, but Harry could tell he was on the verge of tears.

That snapped Harry out of his fog. "I'm okay, Teddy Bear. Just took a good fall, but I've had plenty of bigger falls than that." He'd finally gotten his wind back and tried to sit up, feeling foolish and embarrassed. The leather glove reached out for him, and Harry wrapped his hand around Draco's wrist, feeling bare skin above the man's glove that for some reason sent a shiver through him, then managed to get to his feet, nearly slipping and falling once again during the process.

"That was a big fall, Uncle Harry. But you were skating so good!"

"Yes, Teddy. He was skating _well_ ," Draco corrected in a lower voice than usual, then gave Harry a concerned look. "Seriously," he began, then paused to clear his throat. "Are you okay? Should we go sit down?"

Harry laughed and was relieved to hear his own voice sound normal. "No, I think I'm okay. But perhaps I should skate closer to the wall."

"That's probably a good idea, Uncle Harry," Teddy interrupted. "Then you can catch yourself on the wall. You have a lot more far to fall than I do."

Draco snorted. "Farther. He has a lot farther to fall, and you're quite right. Come on, _Uncle Harry_. Let's get you where you can't do as much damage."

He extended his arm as if he were a man escorting a woman to a ball in some Victorian movie.

Harry stared at him disbelievingly and laughed. "Seriously?"

"Sure, why not? Can't have people saying I damaged the Saviour, now can we?"

Harry pushed down the irritation at the title and rolled his eyes. "Fine, but only for your sake." He put his hand out onto Draco's arm and felt the muscles tense beneath his touch. He watched Teddy take off in front of them, then held on to the offered arm as an anchor and pushed off, making it several feet before nearly losing his balance again. Draco's arm held steady as he spun around in front and caught Harry's shoulder, allowing him to regain his balance. Harry laughed and looked up, finding his face mere inches from a pair of steel grey eyes and a sharp patrician nose. He hesitated, lost for a moment as he noticed specks of blue in the eyes from this close up. Draco's face was so close, Harry could feel the other man's breath on his face coming in short gasps, and he felt his heart speed up inexplicably, his stomach tensing.

"Uncle Harry! Look at this!" Teddy's voice seemed to startle them both as both heads turned to watch Teddy attempt to skate backwards.

Harry pulled back and cleared his throat. "Well done, Teddy Bear."

Draco looked at Harry. "Can you stand on your own for a moment? I want to show him something."

Harry scoffed. "Of course. As long as I'm not moving, evidently," he said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He received a grin in response and watched as Draco skated over to Teddy, showing him how to move his leg in an arc to push himself backwards correctly. They worked together for several minutes, and Harry marvelled over how well Draco worked with the boy. Somehow, he'd never pegged Malfoy as the type to get along well with children. But then, the Malfoy he'd known as a child was so different from this man Draco in front of him. He thought back to his words to Hermione. It was true, what he'd said. There were clearly signs of the same sarcastic, irritating sense of humour and snobby demeanour they'd grown up with, but it seemed mellowed, polished down into a man Harry was enjoying spending time with.

"What?" Draco interrupted his thoughts. "Why are you staring?"

Harry smiled, brushing off his prior thoughts. "Just watching you both. Who wants hot chocolate? I'm freezing."

Teddy cheered and immediately headed for the edge of the rink. Draco held out his arm once again for Harry, and he laughed as Harry took it without tripping. "Very elegantly done, Monsieur Potter. We'll make a skater out of you yet."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I think I'll stick to brooms from now on if you don't mind."

Draco smirked. "Perhaps that's for the best, otherwise I'll have to be nearby to catch you."

Harry felt his stomach clench at that idea. He was glad it was cold so the blush he felt covering his face wasn't noticeable.

"Yes, well." He cleared his throat as they reached the edge. "Hot chocolate. Come on, Teddy!"

Teddy hurried over as quickly as he could and stood between the men, taking each one with a hand, swinging his arms back and forth. "This is so awesome, Draco. Thank you for taking us!"

The boy kept a running commentary for the next hour while drinking his cocoa and finishing his skating, allowing Harry to get lost in his thoughts. Being with Draco was fun, and both Harry and Teddy were having a splendid time. Soon enough, however, he could see Teddy getting tired as he wound down, and Draco evidently noticed it as well, scooping the boy up in his arms as they exited the ice for the final time.

Then it happened. Teddy laid his head on the blond's shoulder and closed his eyes, and Harry was lost. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he felt himself, for the first time in his life, feeling something _more_. Something—something real and interesting and different. For Malfoy. For Draco sodding Malfoy.

They walked quietly together through the park to the nearest Apparition point, the silence comfortable. Draco's grey eyes appeared a deep silver when they met Harry's and held a confusion in them Harry thought was likely mirrored in his own. Finally, Draco mumbled quietly, "I had a nice day, Harry. I'm glad you came." He cleared his throat and pushed on in a stronger voice. "I'll send the house-elf over for Teddy's stuffed elephant and anything else he needs for the night."

Harry hesitated, and before he could decide if he wanted to invite him back to the house or not, Draco Disapparated, taking Teddy for the night as they'd previously arranged. He sighed and looked around, realising it was likely for the best. He really wasn't sure if what he was feeling was passing, or something more. He definitely had some thinking to do.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

_One way to prevent conversation from being boring is to say the wrong thing.  
-Frank Sheed_

* * *

Draco helped Teddy up onto the large four-poster bed and settled him in. With his currently morphed light-blond hair, heart-shaped face, and slightly pointed chin, he looked a great deal like Draco at that young age. The boy's tone of voice and personality, though, was much more polite and sweet, and it reminded him of the differences in how they were raised. He reached forward and brushed a bit of hair out of Teddy's brown eyes.

"So, Teddy, shall we read a book tonight?"

"No, thank you, I'm too awake to sleep, can't you tell?" The boy gave a huge yawn but tried to smother it with a grin. "I wanna play with my toys some more." He picked up his plush elephant and made it attack Draco's hand.

"No more toys, young man. It's time for bed. You had a long day today playing with Victoire and Grandma Molly. Now, what book shall I read?"

Teddy gave another large yawn, then laid back. "Fine, can you sing to me instead? Uncle Harry always sings to me, and it helps me fall asleep."

Draco sat back feeling slightly stunned. Sing? Harry? Without thinking, he found himself trying to get more information out of the child. "Uncle Harry sings to you? Is he good? What kinds of things does he sing?"

Teddy giggled. "He's really good. His voice is super pretty, but he says he only does it for me because I make him happy, and he only likes to sing when he's happy."

"Well, that makes sense," Draco murmured, still feeling slightly put out he hadn't known this tidbit of information. It reminded him how much he really didn't know about the man.

"Mmm-hmm. He mostly sings songs he hears on the radio—that's like a Muggle wireless—but he listens to it a lot so I can sing with him sometimes. But when I'm going to sleep, he sings me quiet songs about animals or boats. Do you know the lion sleeping song, Draco?"

"Lion sleeping song?" Draco laughed. "Figures. He's such a Gryffindor. No, I don't know a lion sleeping song. I don't really sing, but I do read. Now, tell you what, why don't we try Babbity Rabbity again?"

Teddy snuggled into the bed. "Can we read the brothers story instead? Uncle Harry never reads that one to me and doesn't like it when I ask. Please?"

For the second time in only several minutes, Draco found himself confused. He needed to ask Teddy questions about his godfather more often. "Uh, why doesn't he read that one? Is it too scary for you?"

Teddy shook his head. "No, Gram reads it to me sometimes, but Uncle Harry doesn't like it and says sometimes little boys don't need to know everything. I think it's because of the people dying in the story and Uncle Harry doesn't like to talk about dead stuff, but Gram says I should repek Uncle Harry's wishes."

"Respect," Draco corrected. "And she's quite right. I, however, have no problem with this story, so Three Brothers it is. Okay. Snuggle down."

* * *

Draco sat in the darkened corner booth of the Muggle pub and looked around at the somewhat alien decor. He could identify some of the drawings referencing the methods of brewing, but the machinery in the framed photos was like nothing he was familiar with.

He looked up as Harry approached the table, then pushed the waiting pint to the dark-haired man. "The bartender brought it over while you were in the loo."

Harry thanked him and sat down, then took a slight sip. Draco watched him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing, and felt the same stirring of attraction he'd been ignoring for the last two weeks begin to flare. Harry set down his pint glass and turned his deep green eyes onto Draco. "Is it odd I feel guilty, being out without Teddy being with one of us? I know Bill and Fleur are well equipped to keep him for the night, and he's thrilled to have a little sleepover, but it just feels, well, strange."

Draco chuckled. "It does feel a little strange. It's only been a little over a month, but it does seem like longer. It was kind of them to take him for the night." He looked down and decided this was the moment. "Harry, I—Well, I got you a little present for Christmas. I'm not expecting anything in return, I promise, but I thought of it and realised I didn't see anything like it in your home."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, then a blush crossed his face. "Listen, Draco—"

Draco cut him off. "I said I didn't expect anything in return. Truly." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out the shrunken package. Holding it under the table, he discreetly used his wand to enlarge it, then set it on the table. "Will you open it? Please?"

Flashing emerald eyes met his, and Draco felt a flood of anticipation roll over him. Anticipation for what, he wasn't sure. Harry spoke in a low voice, "Okay, sure. Thank you, Draco. Uh—Happy Christmas."

Harry took the gift from the table and examined the glossy red paper. "Gryffindor wrapping paper, huh? You shouldn't have," Harry said with a laugh. Pulling on the gold ribbon, he smiled at Draco, reminding him of their meeting at the St Mungo's tea shop five weeks prior. He'd almost gotten used to the genuinely good-natured smile Harry seemed to offer him so easily these days. _Almost._

"Yes, well, it seemed to fit," Draco acknowledged in a voice he had to force to sound droll.

Opening the paper, Harry unwrapped the simple cherry frame nearly the length of his arm. He turned it over and stared in silence.

Draco felt his nerves tingle and anxiously tapped his finger on his arm. Would the man say nothing?

Harry continued to peer at the frame, unreadable, then cleared his throat. "It's—"

Suddenly feeling as though he'd somehow messed up, Draco scrambled to cover. "I know it's not much, Potter, and I likely overstepped and I'm s—"

"No!" Harry interrupted him, looking up sharply. "No, you didn't overstep. I just— I don't know what to say? Where did you get this? I've not seen it before."

Draco looked down at the frame, where Harry was lightly caressing the image within. "I asked Andromeda if she had any photographs with you and Teddy together. I noticed you didn't have any around Grimmauld Place. She directed me to several photographs she had in her own album, where I found that." He paused. "You look as though you could be his father there."

The image of Harry and Teddy sitting in a large oversized chair appeared to be very recent, likely only several months old. Teddy was curled into Harry's lap, hair black and messy, and they had a children's book spread across their laps. The photo Harry stopped every few seconds to brush a hand through little Teddy's hair, and Teddy would look up and giggle. The photograph was adorable, and Draco had immediately known it was the one he wanted. He'd had it enlarged and framed, ready to prop on the mantle of Harry's fireplace.

Harry stared at the photo for several more moments, then cleared his throat. "Thank you. It's perfect." It was hard to tell in the dark lighting, but Draco thought perhaps he'd made the man blush. He felt his own face heat slightly and decided to change the subject.

"Well, you're quite welcome. Now, did you listen to the Arrows match yesterday?"

* * *

Later, Draco would choose to blame what happened next on the fourth glass of wine he'd just finished, but whatever the cause, he couldn't take it back once it was out. "What do you think happens after you die?" he found himself asking out of nowhere. They'd been talking about the advantages of Quidditch over Quadpot, and then this just spewed out of his mouth.

Harry sat in silence across from him, not meeting his eye—which he found distinctly annoying since he'd known this would likely be a sticky subject, and he'd told himself to avoid it and had no one to blame but himself—but as this had been weighing on his mind ever since his storytime with Teddy the previous week, he decided to keep going.

"Well? You seem to have opinions about everything else, Harry. You can't tell me you don't have opinions on _this_. I mean, we all know ghosts, but they didn't move on to wherever. What do you think is there?"

Harry slowly turned his head and stared at Draco, his green eyes now nearly black in the dark pub. "Why?"

He stifled a groan. He'd expected a bad response but hadn't expected Harry had to go creepy on him. He tried to cover by pulling out his trademark snark. "Why _what_? Why do I want to know? Why am I asking?" He rolled his eyes. "I'm making conversation, and it's interesting to see what other people think." He gave Harry a level stare. "I'm not threatening you or anything, for Merlin's sake."

He watched Harry's mouth twitch—thank Salazar for that—but there was still no response. He took a deep breath and decided to plough ahead.

"Fine. I'll go first. So, I think our soul goes to another place, someplace where time does not really exist, and it simultaneously feels like all time and no time. I think we wait there until there's another chance for us to come back, and then we're born into a new body. I was reading about some of the Muggle religions, and I think they call it reincarnation. It makes sense if you think about the laws of magic and physics."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Religion and physics, oh great pure-blood? That's a lot of Muggle reading you've been doing."

Draco shrugged with a practised nonchalance. "I met a lot of different people when I was in France. There are a lot of interesting ideas, but when I heard this one, it resonated with me." He paused and shot Harry a challenging look. "So what is _your_ opinion?"

Harry sat quietly, still not answering. He took a slow sip of his drink, then set it down. His voice was little more than a whisper when he spoke, and Draco had to strain to hear it over the noise of the pub. "Dumbledore once told me death was just the next great adventure. I don't know about that, but for me, it was definitely someplace transitional. I suppose that means if I had chosen to go on, something was on the other side."

Draco waited for him to continue, but that was it. He felt annoyance sweep through him at the ridiculous answer, and oddly enough, something reminiscent of panic. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, 'for you'? You're surely not suggesting you've _died_ , Potter."

Those eyes were still not back to their natural green when they narrowed, and Harry sat back and took another drink. "I thought we'd moved past last names, _Malfoy_. And no, I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just telling you my experience."

Draco couldn't stop his eyes from rolling. "And you experienced death?" He heard the scepticism in his own voice, but couldn't help it.

Harry muttered something under his breath, and Draco huffed.

"Harry, if you're going to hold a conversation, please be polite and speak audibly."

The pint glass went down with a loud thunk. " _Fine._ Yes, I experienced death. I saw my godfather die, I saw my friends die, I saw _your friend_ die, I saw my mentor die, and _yes_ , I died. I have more experience with death than you could possibly imagine, so if I don't want to talk about it in happy little philosophical conversations, then you'll have to pardon my rudeness." He stood up abruptly. "I'm getting another pint. Do you want anything else?"

Draco nodded his head slowly, stunned at the outburst, his mind scrambling to process the information overload. Draco watched his friend—for he had to admit they were now clearly friends—walk to the bar and replayed the last part of the conversation. He'd known, of course, of all the deaths the man had seen, but he hadn't considered how that would necessarily affect him. He should have, and it was a stupid mistake. Vince's death, followed shortly thereafter by his father's, had had an immense influence on his own life. Surely Harry had suffered similarly, though now he thought about it, Harry had been surrounded by it longer and in greater quantity.

He sighed and felt the regret for bringing up the conversation flood his stomach. He was still confused by the claim Harry was making about his own death. He remembered watching the Dark Lord lead Hagrid out of the forest, carrying a seemingly lifeless Harry Potter. He'd known fear and loss and desperation in those few minutes, though it was concern about the outcome of the war and what that meant to him and his family.

But it had been a trick. He hadn't _really_ been dead.

Harry sat back down across from Draco and gave him a sad smile, then looked down at his drink. "Sorry. I get worked up easily sometimes. You were trying to hold a friendly conversation and I snapped. I apologise."

Draco sat quietly, hoping Harry would continue. After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, he did, still staring into his glass, as though it held the answers he sought.

"When I went into the Forbidden Forest that night, I had a—" He paused as though he were thinking about what to call it, then continued after a moment. "I had an _artefact_ with me that allowed me to bring back the spirits of my parents, my godfather, and of Professor Lupin, who'd just passed that night."

Draco raised an eyebrow, waiting. A sudden memory of Teddy's request for _The Three Brothers_ flashed through his mind, but he shook it off when Harry started speaking again.

"The artefact allowed me to see and talk to them, and my parents answered as though they'd been watching me all my life." He looked up but avoided Draco's gaze as he cleared his throat. "Anyway, when I got to the clearing, the artefact was gone, and I allowed Voldemort to kill me."

Draco felt like his own heart would stop. "No," he whispered. "No," he said louder after a moment. "My mother said he hit you, but you were alive."

Harry nodded. "That's how it appeared, but I died. Afterwards, I found myself whole, healed, and awaiting the next step. I was told it wasn't necessarily my time, that I had a choice to go on to my family, or to return and finish things here." They both sat in silence while Harry drank deeply from his glass. Finally, he continued. "It was the hardest choice I've ever had to make. I'd just seen my parents and Sirius and Remus, and I knew they were waiting for me. And I was so _tired_. Tired of the war, tired of fighting, tired of being alone. Just tired."

Draco found he could barely breathe but eventually found his voice, though it was quieter than he anticipated when he spoke again. "What changed your mind? Why'd you come back? I don't know I could have done that."

"I nearly didn't," Harry said with a slight shrug, "but then I remembered they all gave their lives so I'd have a chance to live my own, and I didn't want to let them down. And I remembered my friends... and even my enemies," he met Draco's eye, "and they were all counting on me to finish this. I couldn't leave them to Voldemort's reign. I was the only one who could do it, so I had to do it."

Something swelled in Draco, but he pushed it aside and promised himself he'd examine it later. Instead, he threw back the remainder of his drink and scowled. "So when you came back, that's when my mother found you?"

Harry nodded. "You know the rest, pretty much. But sometimes, I still think about what would have happened if I'd gone on. Someone else would have come along and killed him, and I wouldn't have hurt Ginny and the Weasleys later when I decided not to stay with her, and Ron and Hermione wouldn't constantly be worrying about me and if I'm okay just because I live alone and don't go crazy dating random people." He hesitated, then said with a voice so quiet Draco was sure he wouldn't have heard him if he hadn't watched the man's lips move. "And I'd be home, with my family."

Draco felt panic rising within him. "Please don't."

"Huh? Don't what?"

He swallowed. "Don't say those things. Where would Teddy be without you? He'd have no godfather. Granger and the Weasleys would be heartbroken, as would the rest of us. You mean a lot to a lot of people, Harry, and not just because of what you've done."

Harry gave him a shy smile, and Draco replayed his own words, blushing.

"The rest of us? You'd be heartbroken?" Harry grinned mischievously now. "Do tell."

Draco took a deep breath, willing his blush to leave. "Yes, well, who would I share babysitting duty with, right?"

Harry laughed, then looked at his watch. "Right. Speaking of which, I promised Bill I'd pick him up early tomorrow morning, so I'd best be going." He stood up and gathered his cloak.

Draco nodded. "Good night, Harry." Harry turned to go, and Draco couldn't help himself. "And Potter?" Harry hesitated, looking back. "I'm glad you came back."

Bottomless green eyes met his and stared, then he gave a brief nod and a hint of a sad smile. "So am I."


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

_One good conversation can shift the direction of change forever.  
_ _-Linda Lambert_

* * *

"How can you not like Ross and Rachel?" Draco exclaimed, indignant.

Draco sat across from Harry at a Muggle pub somewhere in London, pleasantly buzzed and working on his third glass of wine. It was a Sunday evening shortly after the New Year, and his mother was spending the evening with Teddy, freeing both Harry and Draco for the night. Somehow they'd ended up here, together, and Draco had no real idea where they even were since Harry had Apparated them both to the location somewhere in Chiswick. Still, it was a pleasant little pub, uncrowded and clean with a good selection of drinks.

Harry put down his pint glass and scoffed. "They're too on again off again. If you want to be with someone, be with them. Don't treat them like shite then pine when they're with someone who treats them better. It's an unhealthy relationship."

"That sounds boring."

Harry shrugged. "Okay."

Draco rolled his eyes. Harry might be his friend now—Merlin, that word seemed oddly inadequate—but that didn't mean he couldn't tell when the man was being an idiot. "Why would anyone want something boring when it comes to love?" he asked with a huff. "I don't want normal and easy and simple. I want painful, difficult, devastating, life-changing, extraordinary love."

Harry just shook his head. "I understand wanting excitement, but who says that normal and simple can't be life-changing and extraordinary? Love shouldn't be difficult. I think if it's painful and devastating, you're doing it wrong."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're such a Gryffindor sometimes." He took a sip of his wine, then continued. "Look, Harry… for every emotion, there's an inverse feeling. The intensity of one influences the other. Pain is intense, but so is the joy when the pain is gone. You can't have true joy without experiencing the pain."

Harry grinned and nodded, making his messy hair flop around and catch the light. "I agree with that entirely. One would be bland without the other, but can you really have _true_ _joy_ —as you put it—if the person you love is the one creating the pain? How can you trust them if they cause you pain? Life gives you difficulties and pain enough without the person you love and trust creating the situation."

Draco considered that for a moment, thinking about people he'd known—his parents, his friends—and the unhappiness that followed them. The argument made sense, but he decided he wasn't ready to give up his opinions just yet. "No, I don't think so, Harry. It's not enough." He remembered his past relationships and the feeling of something missing. He wanted more. He tried to think about how to convey it to his friend. He met Harry's eyes and leaned forward, wanting to portray his earnestness. "I want a love that will change everything, that will turn my life upside-down, that will push me to be the best version of myself. I'm not going to get that with something that's normal and easy and simple. I know myself too well to know that I wouldn't grow in a relationship like that. I'd take it for granted and be the same prick I've always been."

Harry gave him a knowing smile and took another drink. "Yeah, I want that too," he said quietly. He held Draco's gaze, and Draco felt the emerald green boring into his core. "But I still don't agree that you need to have the negative elements in order to grow. I think the problem here is that you're equating boring with simple and easy." He continued to watch Draco closely as he paused for a drink. "To me, simple and easy means that you love the other person for who they are, and you accept them whole-heartedly. You don't push them to change to be what you want them to be, you don't pick at them for mistakes, and you don't berate them or make them feel less. Instead, you support them, and lift them up, and push them to change to be what they want themselves to be." He put down his glass with a thunk as if accentuating his point. "And _that_ , that should be easy. _That_ should be simple, because you should want the best for them even more than you want it for yourself. And they should return the sentiment."

Draco needed a moment to catch his breath and, excusing himself, took both their glasses up to order another round. Why was Potter getting to him so deeply? How did this conversation about a television show turn so intense? He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself, then returned to the table to find Harry building something out of his drink coasters. "I can't leave you alone for five minutes without you playing with something, can I?" Draco kept his tone light, hoping Harry would hear it for the tease it was.

Harry laughed. "I was thinking about what I said before you left. I see it like this." Harry took the two coasters and laid them flat on the table. "What you're suggesting is that love be like this." Harry took one coaster and pushed it around the table with the other. "The two are together; they influence one another." He changed direction and pushed the first coaster with the second, then used the second to flip the other one over, where the reverse side looked just the same. "They can change each other and where they go. But they are always the same, just in different places or different positions."

Draco raised an eyebrow and gestured for Harry to continue.

"But if they work together, if they each appreciate the other for what they can do, they grow." He propped the two coasters on their sides and leaned them together like a little tent. "That's simple. That's easy. It's not boring, but it _is_ life-changing." Harry's voice quieted and slowed, as though he were thinking it through himself as he spoke. "When the pain and difficulties come along, it's not the two creating the pain and difficulty for the other. It can't be, because they are too busy holding the other one up. They weather the low-times together because they are partners in every sense of the word, so when that passes, your inverse feelings can soar even higher, because they're duplicated from both." He looked at Draco with that smile again, and Draco felt something inside him melt just a little. "That's what _I_ want. Life-changing, _together_."

They sat in silence while they both absorbed the conversation. Draco stared at the coasters while he attempted to reorient his world-view just a bit. Harry made complete sense, and he found himself wanting what he described. No, not just wanting it. _Aching_ for it. It sounded extraordinary.

"Draco, are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?"

Draco looked up to see intense green eyes staring at him in concern. He reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist, stopping him from moving the coasters. "No. No, I'm good. That— No, not _that—You_. You are amazing, sometimes, did you know? I've not heard anything like that before, and it sounds pretty damned perfect." He returned Harry's smile, putting all his emotion into it. "Thank you."

Harry looked stunned for a moment, then his smile returned and he shrugged, placing his own hand over Draco's, still resting on his wrist. "You're welcome."

"I still like Ross and Rachel together," Draco said, withdrawing his hand, feeling self-conscious.

Harry laughed. "They've got nothing on Chandler and Monica."

* * *

Harry walked into Grimmauld Place that evening, dropping his coat over a chair in the kitchen and looking around at the empty house as he walked from room to room, closing up the house for the night. _What the hell am I doing with Draco?_

Things were getting out of hand. He was enjoying their friendship, but he was letting himself feel something more. Something had changed, and he wasn't sure what he wanted to do about it.

He stopped to pick up the blanket Hermione had knitted for him and placed it over the back of the sofa, then remembered their conversation the last time she'd been over. _She knows._ _How does she figure these things out before I even do?_ He replayed her words in his head. " _You like him."_

Did he? Did he really like him? He was attracted, sure—a bloke would have to be blind or straight not to be—but did he want a _relationship_ with the man? He'd given up on the idea of a relationship with anyone, really, but the idea of one with Draco Malfoy should have sent him running. Why did it just make his insides warm and his cock hard?

It was that smile tonight, the one that lit up Draco's entire face and made Harry feel as though he had turned on the sun. That smile—Harry felt like he would do anything to make the man smile like that again. He'd only seen it once before—when Draco was smiling at Teddy—and this time he hadn't been able to think of anything else for the rest of the night. He must have sounded like the ignorant sod Draco used to accuse him of being.

He thought back to his conversations with Draco over the last seven weeks and considered all he'd learned. He'd come to admire this man. This rich, aristocratic pure-blood wizard had left behind everyone he knew and backpacked through Europe with Muggles, then took on an apprenticeship in a foreign country, determined to make something of himself. Instead of remaining away, where no one knew of his past, he'd returned home and been determined to restore respect to his name. And then he got a job helping people. How could Harry not respect that?

And more than that, Hermione was right. Harry _liked_ him. He was a good man, and he was funny, and smart, and he seemed to understand how to talk to Harry. He didn't push him, but he _did_ challenge him. And, well, when had Harry ever been able to back down from a challenge from Draco Malfoy?

Then there was Teddy. He looked at the framed photograph of himself and Teddy on the fireplace mantle and felt his pulse throb in his throat. Draco seemed to really understand his relationship with his godson—not only did he understand, but he actively supported it. Add to that that the man genuinely seemed to like the kid, and Teddy liked him right back.

Merlin, it was like someone throwing Bombarda spells at every barrier Harry had been keeping up over the last few years.

He walked up the stairs into his bedroom, preparing to go to sleep. He looked around his empty room. He was tired of being alone. He was tired of not having someone of his own, someone he could count on. What he'd said tonight was true; he _did_ want a love like he'd described—he just never thought he could have it. And dammit, he'd been afraid to try.

There was something about this thing with Draco, though, that made him forget to be afraid.

Harry went through his evening ablutions, playing with the idea in his head, swirling the scenarios and twisting the possibilities. Before tonight, he'd have pushed the idea away, sure that even if he was interested, Draco surely was not. But now… well, he wasn't so sure about that.

He fell asleep dreaming of what it might be like to date Draco Malfoy, and if he woke in the morning with a quick wank, who could blame him?

* * *

"Aunt Andromeda? Are you awake?" Draco stepped quietly into the room, keeping his voice low, just in case. He liked to stop in her hospital room on his lunch break from the St Mungo's Potions Lab when he had the opportunity, and he knew Andromeda appreciated the company.

"I am." She smiled as he approached and held her hand out to him in greeting. "Are you joining me for lunch today, dear?"

"Of course. I brought some lovely sandwiches, salad, and tea from somewhere other than this terrible cafeteria. Shall I set them up?"

"Yes, please. So tell me about something going on outside this hospital that I don't know about. I'm tired of the same old conversations about my health, and as much as I want to know about Teddy, I just saw him yesterday. Tell me something _new_."

Draco hesitated, pausing in the act of pouring her tea, then gave her a little smile, as innocent as he knew how. "New?"

She raised an eyebrow in a way that reminded him again that this was his mother's sister. They didn't generally look alike, but sometimes their mannerisms were eerily similar.

She chuckled quietly. "Yes, _new_. Which your hesitation leads me to believe is something interesting. Is there some _one_ that's new?"

Draco sat down, then suppressed a sigh. He did want to talk to her about this; it was one of the reasons he made sure to make time for lunch today, but he'd thought he'd have the opportunity to lead up to it. He picked up his fork and took a bite of his salad to buy him some time, and she sipped her tea, waiting patiently.

"Well," he began, "I'm not sure you'd say they're new, but yes, it is about someone. Aunt—"

"Andi is fine, dear, when Teddy's not here. Truly."

He nodded. "Andi, then. Andi, you loved your husband, didn't you?"

Andromeda gave him a sad smile. "I did. I loved him for the thirty-two years we were together, and I've loved him for the five years he's been gone. He was the best decision I ever made." She took a small bite of her sandwich and watched him, waiting for him to continue.

He struggled to find the words, which was unlike him and made him uncomfortable. Finally, he decided to just say it out loud. "I think I have feelings for someone, but it's not what I expected it to be. I thought there'd be fireworks and blinding certainty, I guess. I always presumed I'd see it coming and enjoy the fall, you know?"

His aunt watched him closely and smiled. "Yes, that does sound like fun."

He laughed. "Yes, well, that's not what's happened, and I'm not sure what to do with it. I feel like we're in the middle of it already, but I just woke up to what it was. How can that be real? How can I trust that? I'm not denying I've found him attractive in the past, but suddenly, I can't wait to talk to him and be with him. Just yesterday I was thinking about how he was my friend, then just an hour later, it hit me that this is _more_. That I _want_ it to be more, and—" He cut himself off, unsure what else to say.

"And you're scared?" He gave her a slight nod, and she continued. "What are you scared of, Draco? That he doesn't return the feelings? That it's not real?"

"Yes, those things, but more, what if I fuck this up? I have this really enjoyable new friendship. What if I fuck it up like I have every other relationship I've been in. What if this is one—"

She gave him one of those all-knowing smiles that usually irritated him but now made him relax. "Ah, I think you'll find that is the key, darling; your _other_ relationships. Have your other relationships had the fireworks you mentioned?"

He thought back to a couple and shrugged. "Some."

"And did any of them feel like _this_?"

That one was easy. "No, none. Not even close."

She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, her eyes twinkling. "Then perhaps this one feels different because it _is_ different. Maybe you just haven't gotten to the fireworks yet because you're enjoying the build-up first."

He nodded slowly, thinking of the long conversations he'd been having with Harry, getting to know the man so completely, and letting Harry get to know him. _Build up._

"Are you really afraid that Harry doesn't return your feelings, Draco?"

"No, not really, but—" He stopped and felt a blush cover his face. "I didn't say it was Harry."

She laughed out loud this time, and now he was presented with how much different she was than his mother who would never show her amusement so openly. So alike, but so different.

"You didn't have to, dear. I've seen how you two have been looking at each other when you're here with Teddy. And I beg to disagree about the fireworks. Perhaps they're there and you just haven't been watching, because they've been visible to me for weeks."

Draco considered, then nodded and continued eating. They sat in silence for several minutes, both lost in their thoughts. Finally, he responded. "Yesterday, I would have told you that this just feels too easy, but after his and my discussion last evening, I suppose that makes sense. But what if easy gets boring?"

She rolled her eyes. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Harry Potter is many things, but have you ever known him to be _boring_?"

Draco laughed. "I suppose not, no. So you don't think I'm crazy for even considering this? What if it falls apart? What happens to Teddy?"

"Oh, Draco, darling." She put her hand on his. "Thank you for thinking of my sweet boy, but if it does, you'll both go back to visiting him separately and it'll be like it was before I was ill. I'm nearly better, and this current situation only needs to hold a little bit longer. More importantly, though, is what if it doesn't fall apart? What happens to Teddy then when he sees a mature, healthy relationship based on friendship and caring?"

They finished their lunch, and as he walked back down to the Potions Lab, he contemplated all she'd said. It made sense, and Merlin knew he was feeling the push to try to see if this was something more, but he was still concerned. There were some serious topics of conversation they hadn't discussed yet, things they both had avoided, as though they were off-limits.

He was the Slytherin one in this potential relationship, so he needed to think things out. He was sure once Harry decided to try something, he'd just plough ahead, which meant Draco needed to be the reasonable one for both their sakes. He sat down in his lab and pulled out a piece of parchment. He had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is especially dear to me. It was the catalyst for this entire story, stemming from a little drabble I wrote for my writing competition back around Valentine's Day. The prompt for the drabble was to use this quote—" _I don't want normal and easy and simple. I want painful, difficult, devastating, life-changing, extraordinary love." from the tv series_ _Scandal_ —and you'll find that prompt still used in Draco's dialogue. This chapter is the core of this story, as well as the inspiration, and I hope you loved it as much as I do.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

_Be brave enough to start a conversation that matters.  
-Margaret Wheatley_

* * *

Harry finished his paperwork for the day and looked around the Auror department where he'd been alternating weeks between desk duty and helping the Training Squad. The training work was great, and he honestly loved that, but the paperwork sucked. Still, it meant that he was home every day on time to take care of Teddy and that he was available at a moment's notice if he was needed. He'd do anything for his godson, so a few weeks of paperwork was worth it.

He checked his watch. He still had an hour before it was time to go home, so he got up to get himself a drink from the cooling cupboard in the breakroom. Returning to his desk with his fizzy drink, he saw one of the owls with the St Mungo's leg band waiting on his desk. Concern for Andromeda flooded through him, as she was the only one he knew to be currently ill. He reached out to take the letter from the owl, then pulled an owl treat from his desk drawer for the animal.

He leaned against his desk, opening the letter quickly, his heart beating fast. The letter wasn't from the Healers, however. The writing was much too familiar; he scanned to the bottom and saw Draco's signature. Calmed and intrigued, Harry began to read.

_Harry,_

_I had a really great time yesterday. Oh, hell, I've had a really great time in general lately. Thank you for making these past few weeks simple, as I've been enjoying them immensely. Teddy is a lovely child, and I realised last night how much I appreciate the opportunity to become your friend. It's been surprisingly easy._

_I wonder if perhaps you'd be willing to meet me for dinner on Friday evening this week. Mother has offered to keep Teddy for the night, and I think there may be some important matters we should discuss we've both been ignoring. If you're willing, I have a private location in mind to ensure we aren't interrupted in our discussion. Floo to "Higgins Hutch" Friday night at 7:00 if you find this acceptable._

_I look forward to seeing you then._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

Harry felt his nerves begin to bounce in his stomach, but they were the good kind of nerves people usually equated to butterflies or other fun things. He'd been considering what the next step should be with Draco all day—he'd woken with a ridiculously hard cock and his mind full of the man—but he hadn't been sure how to make a move without scaring him off. He'd decided he needed to be more circumspect than he'd otherwise be with another Gryffindor. Slytherins required stealth, right?

But if Draco was inviting him for a private dinner, then it looked as though things were moving forward without Harry having to plan anything, which was good, as he still wasn't quite sure what he was doing. The one thing he did know was he wanted _something_ to happen, but was it what Draco had in mind?

Harry reread the letter, pausing on a sentence. " _It's been surprisingly easy."_ Was Draco referring to their conversation the previous night? Was he conceding Harry's point about relationships? Harry replayed their conversation in his head and reread the note. He was pretty sure he was right, and Draco was indeed suggesting there was something more. _Merlin, I'm getting ready to attempt a relationship with Draco Malfoy, aren't I?_ He ran his hand through his hair in consternation. Draco's sparkling grey eyes and elusive genuine smile flashed through his mind. _Oh, I definitely am._

"Harry?" Neville approached Harry's desk, and Harry jumped, quickly tucking the letter away under some folders.

"Hi, Nev, how's the case?"

Neville sat down in Harry's visitor's chair and sighed. "Slow. I swear, if I never have to work with Collins again, it'll be too soon. The man is an imbecile." He gave Harry a hopeful smile. "How's Andromeda? Are you going to be returning to full duty soon?"

"She's doing better, actually. She'll be leaving St Mungo's later this week and staying with her sister for a bit, but I'll still be taking Teddy part-time for at least another few weeks."

Neville nodded. "Well, it'll be nice to have you back, Harry. Oh, I nearly forgot. A bunch of us were talking about heading to the pub Friday evening. Are you in?"

Harry glanced down at his letter. "Erm, no. I think I have a date." He chuckled nervously, confident Neville wouldn't ask any probing questions.

Neville raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Really? Well, I hope you'll tell me all about it when you're ready. In the meantime, good luck, mate." Neville stood and slapped Harry on the shoulder, then left Harry to his own musings.

Harry looked back down at the letter sitting on his desk and smiled. He had a date.

* * *

Draco stood waiting nervously in the Floo reception room of Pansy's mother's hunting cabin. He chuckled at the term, as he was sure it'd never been used for hunting in recent centuries, and it was hardly a cabin. Higgins Hutch was more of a mountain chalet—if one had such things in Scotland. It was a quiet, remote location where he and Harry could have a nice dinner and talk. Really talk, with no fear of interruptions.

Not that they hadn't been talking for ages now—really, it felt like that's all they did sometimes—but this time he intended to steer the conversation to important issues they needed to air out before they became any closer. Primarily, they needed to discuss their past. And the War. Merlin, he hated the idea of that, but it was necessary. If they couldn't talk about the difficult issues in their past, there was no future for them, and if there was no future, there was no point in continuing whatever this was.

Draco turned to the mirror and checked his appearance. Flawless, as planned. His midnight blue dress shirt and light grey trousers hugged his form perfectly. He looked casual but attractive. He really hoped Harry would notice.

The fireplace flared green, and Harry stumbled out, brushing himself off and looking awkwardly around at the strange setting. "Hey. Where are we? I assumed this was a restaurant or something, but—"

He trailed off and Draco suppressed a laugh. "No, not a restaurant; well spotted, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes and, as they landed on Draco, they slowly ran up his body, simultaneously making Draco blush and his cock twitch. Harry gave him a smirk, then joined him near the mirror, making sure he had no ash left on his jeans and dark purple jumper. "Looking good there, Malfoy. So, we're… at someone's house?"

"Hardly," Draco managed to get out in a pompous tone that thankfully didn't sound at all as flustered as he felt. "We're at Mrs Parkinson's hunting cabin in Scotland. It's only us and the house-elves, though, so you can relax. I just wanted us to have some time to talk, somewhere that is neither of our homes, but offers privacy."

Harry raised his eyebrows in question. "Er, thank you? So, what did you have planned, then?" He looked around to the doorway. "You did say dinner, right?"

"Yes, dinner." Draco laughed and turned for the door, gesturing for Harry to follow him. "Does that mean you're hungry already, or would you prefer some wine first while I show you around?"

"I wouldn't mind a glass of wine, thank you," Harry said with an expectant smile, "though I am hungry. Maybe show me the sitting room and loo so I can find them later, then we can eat in a bit? What's for dinner, by the way?"

"You said you eat seafood?" Draco asked as they moved down the hallway toward the ornate sitting room.

"I quite like it, actually, yes."

"Perfect. I believe there is a scallops dish as a starter and a seafood risotto for the main course. They have offered a vanilla souffle for dessert, though there is chocolate mousse if you prefer." Draco hesitated, feeling slightly nervous. "Does that all suit you?"

Harry met his eyes and smiled. "It suits me fine, thank you." They stopped and looked around, and Draco wondered what Harry thought about the dark woods and plush furniture of the lodge's main gathering room. A large fire burned in the hearth, and the room smelled of spice and woodfire. Harry's eye's returned to Draco. "As does this. It's lovely, Draco. Thank you for inviting me."

Harry stepped a bit closer, and Draco took a forced step back. He felt a bit unsure, but the look in Harry's eyes convinced him they really should have that conversation he was planning _soon_. He'd not been seduced many times in his life, but even he recognised the looks he was receiving. He cleared his throat and moved to the bottle of wine and the glasses sitting on the sideboard. "Right. So, as I said in my letter, Harry, I think we need to talk."

Harry chuckled and sat down into the corner of the overstuffed sofa, tucking a leg underneath him. "Yes, though we've already been doing a lot of talking lately, don't you think? I'm not sure what you believe it is we've been ignoring."

Draco handed Harry his glass of wine, then sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Harry, keeping his distance. He'd had a plan on how to approach this if he could just remember how to begin. "First, I'd like to say that Sunday night, I went home, and I just couldn't get our conversation out of my mind."

Harry made a low sound Draco took as agreement, so he continued.

"Becoming your friend has been… odd. Surreal, even."

Harry laughed. "Yes, surreal. That's a good word for it." He laid his arm along the back of the sofa toward Draco, his fingers outstretched in invitation. Draco felt his pulse quicken and ignored it.

"But before we were to… become any _better_ friends than we currently are—"

" _Better friends_ , Draco?" Harry interrupted with a smirk. "What would that be?" He took a sip of his wine and licked his lips. He sounded a bit unsure when he continued, incongruous with his behaviour of only seconds before. "Are you interested in becoming _better_ _friends_ , then?"

The arsehole was enjoying this too much, Draco decided. They both knew what he was talking about, but Harry was trying to force him to be the one to say it first. Bugger _that_. "Of course, better friends than we are now. But as I was saying, before that can happen, we need to—"

Draco paused to take a drink, utterly nervous, as he knew this had the potential to go badly wrong. He shouldn't have done that, though, because Harry took the opportunity to make it even worse.

"What do we need to do, Draco?" His voice was low and husky, and Draco's stomach tightened in response.

Draco watched Harry take another drink, then finally got it out in a rush. "We need to talk about the war."

Harry began to choke on the wine he'd just sipped and put the glass down as he tried to catch his breath. "What?" he managed between coughs.

Draco handed him a napkin and gave him a moment to compose himself. "Harry, we need to talk about the war. Neither of us will make very good _friends_ if we have to constantly tiptoe around the topic. We don't need to talk about it _all_ tonight, but we have to know that we _can_ talk about it, open and honestly, if we're going to try to be anything more."

Harry met Draco's eye and it made him want to cringe. Where just moments earlier there was playfulness and lust, now there was wariness and pain. Merlin, he didn't want to do this, but they had to, didn't they?

He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I can go first if you like. Or we can just take turns asking each other questions. Or we can wait until after dinner if you prefer, though I know I'd rather get it over with and enjoy the rest of the evening." He was rambling and forced himself to stop.

Harry stared at the wall, then muttered, "Right." He gave a long sigh. "You're right, but _fuck_ , I don't want to do this. I thought you had some big plan of—" He cut himself off, then looked embarrassed.

Draco leaned over and put his hand on Harry's, now resting beside him on the seat. "I did have some big plan of… but this needs to come first, don't you think? Harry, if we can't talk about this, there shouldn't _be_ big plans for other things."

Harry looked over and met his eyes, the green piercing Draco even in the dim lighting. "You might not want to pursue those big plans after we talk, you know. I'm kind of fucked up." He sighed, resigned. "We'll take turns, but I don't think I can do it all in one night. We'll go as long as we're both comfortable, then pick it up again another time, okay?"

Draco nodded, relieved Harry hadn't just got up and left.

Harry shifted and wrapped both arms around his torso. "I've lost my appetite for the moment anyway, so let's just do this." He paused, thinking. "I don't know what I want to ask, though. You go first."

Draco gave a little nod. "Okay. Well, let's start easy. What were you doing when you broke into the Ministry that year? It was a crazy, stupid thing to do. Why'd you do it?"

Harry smiled. "Okay, yeah, that's easy. I had a list of items I needed to destroy to weaken Voldemort." Draco was proud of himself for not flinching, but his left forearm twinged at the name. He was sure it was psychosomatic, but it felt like a muscle cramp either way. Harry continued though, without seeming to notice. "Umbridge had one of them worn around her fucking neck, the evil bitch. So we went in to get it back."

Draco laughed wryly at Harry's description of the horrible woman. He'd hated her as well, and loathed sucking up to her at the time, but, well, he was raised to know how to ignore that to put himself in good graces with the right people. "Right, so you just broke into the ministry, stole it back, and thought, hey, why don't I release all these Muggle-borns while we're here?"

Harry shrugged. "Kind of. We used Polyjuice to get in, then the rest just kinda… happened. Honestly, it was the same thing with Gringotts. We had to get an item on the list from Bellatrix's vault. We went in with some Polyjuice and a half-arsed plan and ended up escaping on the back of a dragon." He picked up his glass and took a sip, then looked up with an arrogant grin. "But we got the items, both times."

Draco laughed, glad they could still find humour in such a dark subject.

Harry's expression sobered. "Okay, your turn. How's Goyle?"

Of all the questions Harry could have asked, that was the last he thought it'd be. Harry was actually asking about Greg. "He's… not good. He didn't cope well after the war, and with Vince gone, and his parents dead, he's struggling. I lost contact with him when I was away, but Pansy keeps tabs on him and gives him money periodically. He's been fighting drug addiction in the Muggle world. I tried to help get him cleaned up a few times, but he doesn't want it." Draco's voice trailed off.

"You can't help him if he doesn't want it, Draco," Harry said quietly.

"I know. That's what all the books said that I read about it, but I feel like I abandoned him. I was barely hanging on myself when I left, so I don't regret going, but I do regret what's happened to him since."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. George, Ron's brother, went through something similar after the war, abusing Potions for a while. He managed to pull through, but it was hard. Really hard. I'm sorry about your friend."

Clearing his throat, Draco gave Harry a little smile. "Thanks. Okay, your turn again." He took a deep breath, asking the question he most wanted to know. "Why did you save me in the Room of Requirement? After all the years of horrible things I did to you—that I did to everyone—why would you save me? I've never understood it. I'm grateful you did, obviously, but why?"

"Why?" Harry looked thoughtful. "You were a kid, Draco. You did some shitty stuff, yeah, but like I testified at the trials, you were _forced_ to do the _really_ horrible things. The rest was just kids' shit, and I gave it back to you a good deal of the time." Harry paused, thinking, then gave a mournful sigh. "You know from my testimony that I saw a lot of what you went through, and by the time of the battle, I just saw you as one of my classmates stuck in the same God-forsaken war as the rest of us." He stared Draco hard in the eyes. "You had about as much choice as I did, less even. I could have walked away, couldn't I've? You didn't even have that. And then that fire. God, I still have nightmares of that fire. I couldn't just leave you there."

Draco sat in silence, watching the flames in the hearth and remembering the heat of the Fiendfyre. The nightmares haunted him, as well. It was comforting to know someone else understood them. "Thank you, Harry. I don't know if I said it before, but thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome, Draco. I'm really glad I did." He cleared his throat. "My turn?"

Draco nodded solemnly.

"Why did you take the Mark? Why did you, really? I remember you bragging about it when I snuck into your carriage on the train."

Draco suddenly felt cold, but pushed up his sleeve and looked at the dull scar of a skull, still slightly visible on his arm. "I didn't know what it really meant. I thought it meant power, and belonging, and making my father proud. I was stupid because I should have known. I just thought that all the shite people said about the Death Eaters was fabricated to cover up their feelings of inferiority."

He rubbed at his arm self-consciously, wishing he could rub it away. Harry watched him, no judgement in his eyes.

"It was the most physically painful thing I've ever experienced, and I've experienced the Cruciatus at the hands of both the Dark Lord and Bellatrix several times." He paused again before looking at Harry, wanting him to understand. "Getting marked… I felt it in my soul. Does that sound odd, Harry? What does that even _mean_? Except it's the closest way I've found to describe it."

Harry looked haunted now, and sad. "No, it doesn't sound odd." He took a deep breath, as though he were about to make some great revelation, which perhaps he was. Still, when he spoke, it was so quiet that Draco could hardly hear him over the crackling of the fire. "I had a piece of his soul inside me."

Draco's mouth went dry and he could swear he felt his heart stop. He couldn't have spoken even if he'd had words to say. He just listened in horror as Harry stared at the fire and continued, his voice louder now, but nearly monotone.

"When Voldemort killed Snape that night, I was there, hiding outside the room. Snape saw me and gave me some memories before he died. It was during that hour reprieve to gather our dead, remember?"

Draco remembered the eeriness of that hour well—the heartache, the fear, the uncertainty, the cries of the wounded—so he gave a slight nod, which was all he could manage in his terror of hearing the rest of the story.

"I ran up to Dumbledore's office and used his Pensieve to view the memories. They were a mix of Snape's history with my mother—they were friends as children—and conversations he'd had with Dumbledore. Dumbledore told him I was a carrier of a sliver of Voldemort's soul, and the only way for him to die was for me to let him kill me. If I didn't go to him and let him hit me with a killing curse, he'd never stop hunting the people I love." He looked over to Draco now, and Draco could see the anguish in his eyes. "So I left the castle, only stopping to tell Neville to kill Nagini if he got the chance before I walked into the forest to let him do it."

The silence between them grew heavy, and finally, Draco spoke. "So, you let him kill you. Then, as you said before, you chose to come back. How?"

"Something with the soul piece, I guess. Like, maybe he killed _that_ , but not me? I don't know, really. I know I was in a place that looked like King's Cross, but it was all white, and I spoke with Dumbledore. I had the option to go on or not; so yeah, I came back. But the knowledge I'd lived my entire life with a slice of that thing's _soul_ inside me—"

Draco watched Harry swallow as though he were pushing down the bile in his throat. He felt something similar himself but brushed it aside. He moved down the sofa to sit closer to the man who so clearly needed support.

"Harry," he began, then stopped, unsure what else to say. He watched Harry, wondering at the strength of the man beside him. Finally, he knew what he needed to convey. It'd taken him the better part of his life to learn how to say it, but this time it came easily. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me all this, for trusting me with it. Thank you for coming back. Thank you for saving me, and thank you for forgiving me." He paused, then reached out and took Harry's hand. "Thank you for being my friend."

Emerald green eyes met his, and Harry forced a little smile. "Thank you for listening. You were right that we needed to get this out, but I'm hoping we can stop here for tonight." He paused, then looked a little unsure and sad. "I know it's all a bit much. Being my friend sometimes isn't easy, Draco. Are you sure it's what you want? I'd understand if you changed your mind, and I'd rather you do it now if you were going to do it."

Draco nodded solemnly, wanting to convey his sincerity. "I'm sure. And I have a good deal of my own problems, obviously, so I think it's an equal exchange." He forced a grin to lighten the mood. "Well, I think we did a good job handling some of the big issues tonight, don't you?"

Harry took a deep breath in relief. "Yeah. Yeah, I think we did." He smiled, then ran his hand through his hair making it stand on end. "Look, I'm going to find the bathroom and settle myself down for a couple of minutes, then I think we should probably start dinner." He stood up and turned. "And don't think you've gotten out of your explanation about our being _better_ friends. We can have that one after dinner, perhaps." He waggled his eyebrows and left the room.

Draco sat, stunned, then grinned in delight. What kind of resilience did this man have that he could have the conversation they'd just had, then recover enough to flirt on his way out of the room? The idea of Harry's _resilience_ suddenly made him chuckle. Merlin, he was looking forward to finding out.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

_The happiest conversation is that of which nothing is distinctly remembered, but a general effect of pleasing impression.  
— Samuel Johnson_

* * *

Harry looked into the mirror over the sink, then leaned over and splashed some water into his face. Using the guest towel to dry off, he sighed. This evening had taken a complete one-eighty from what he'd expected when he got ready after work. He'd spent time preparing to look extra nice with the expectation for the possibility of some flirting, and maybe even a bit of snogging if he played it right. Instead, he'd arrived and, while he was pretty sure Draco had been responding to his overtures, the man had insisted on a serious conversation.

_Fuck_ , that conversation had been hard. Harry never liked talking about the war, even with Ron and Hermione who'd been with him almost every step of the way. If he were honest with himself, and he usually tried to be these days, it was one of the reasons he didn't often get close to new people—they wanted to _know_ what he'd gone through. The curiosity of someone who hadn't been there usually felt intrusive, as though they wanted to know because it was _interesting_ or because they wanted to help the _poor broken hero_.

But this hadn't been like that at all. Maybe it was because Draco had gone through his own hell and because he wasn't curious, he just wanted to get it out of the way. It wasn't only Harry talking about things that _he_ still struggled with, but it was also Draco talking about things that changed _him_ as well. It wasn't one-sided. It was like talking with someone who knew, but _better_. When he talked about it with Ron and Hermione, they just looked sad and it made it hurt more. Draco hadn't looked sad; he'd looked as though he _understood_. He hadn't questioned Harry's decisions; he hadn't asked how it made Harry feel or made noises showing sympathy.

He'd just listened.

Harry honestly hadn't realised how much he needed that. He felt lighter than he'd felt in a long time. _A burden shared is a burden halved_ , the old saying went, right? And knowing that they'd truly shared their burdens in _both_ directions seemed to make all the difference.

He looked back into the mirror and brushed his fingers through his hair, taming the direction of the chaos just a bit, then straightened his shoulders. He was ready for whatever came next, which appeared to be dinner and—he hoped—a good deal more flirting.

* * *

Dinner was wonderful. Harry took a bite of his seafood risotto and closed his eyes in pleasure. The shrimp was perfectly done and the flavour wonderfully balanced. He sighed, then opened his eyes as he heard an intake of breath from beside him.

Draco was watching him closely, his gaze dark. Harry quickly replayed the last thirty seconds from Draco's point of view and suppressed a grin as he realised how his reaction may have looked erotic. It was unintentional, but it had an _interesting_ outcome.

Draco cleared his voice. "So, Harry, obviously you _like_ shrimp and scallops. What food don't you like?"

"Aubergine. I despise it. You?"

"Salmon. Disgusting. Favourite colour?"

Harry laughed. "What is this? Twenty questions?"

"Well, we've talked about the hard stuff, but I realised earlier that we'd left out some of the simple things," Draco said with a grin. "Now, stop stalling. What's your favourite colour?"

"I don't have one."

Draco looked sceptical as he took a bit of his own dinner.

"No, really. I like them all for different things. I prefer to wear deep colours, for example, but I prefer paintings in pastels, and I like to decorate in muted tones. I even like brown, because it reminds me of Teddy's natural hair… and chocolate, actually. So I suppose I'd have to say all of the colours are my favourite."

"That's ridiculous, Potter. Blue is clearly the best colour."

Harry laughed. "Are you going to continue to revert to my surname when I irritate you then, _Malfoy_?"

"If you're going to continue to irritate me, then yes," Draco said haughtily. "Now, what is your favourite holiday spot?"

Still laughing at Draco's ridiculousness, and a bit charmed by it as well, Harry shrugged. "That's easy. I've only been on one holiday and it was to Mallorca. Ron and Hermione insisted I go with them a couple of years ago, and it was beautiful."

Draco just stared in obvious disbelief. "You've only ever had one holiday? _Ever_?"

Harry took another bite and nodded. "Yup," he began once he finished chewing. "One. My relatives never took me with them when I was a kid, and then, well, after the war it never occurred to me to take one. I'd like to go to America someday, and maybe Southeast Asia. How about you?"

"I've been a little bit of everywhere, I suppose. I believe I'm like you with your colours. I like New York and Milan for shopping, Madrid for nightlife, Paris and Rome for history and museums, the Cote d'Azur for beaches and sun, Eastern Europe for Quidditch and skiing…" He looked uncomfortable and signalled for the house-elves to ready the next course.

Watching closely, Harry tried to decipher the reason for Draco's discomfort. He played back the last question in his mind and put it together. "You don't have to be embarrassed because we've had different lives, you know. I find it interesting you've been to all those places. Maybe you can tell me about them some time"—feeling a bit uncertain, but rallying his Gryffindor bravery, he added softly—"or perhaps _show_ me."

"I'd like that," Draco murmured, and Harry saw that smile he was coming to love emerge onto Draco's face, making Harry's whole body tighten in awareness.

Harry cleared his throat, hoping the other man hadn't noticed his reaction to just a simple smile. "Don't think you're getting out of more questions. You started this, after all." Harry searched his brain for a quick neutral topic. "So, other than Snape, who was your favourite Hogwarts professor?"

Draco snorted. "What makes you think Snape was my favourite professor?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Maybe because he clearly favoured you and your house, and you went into his field of study?"

"Yes, well, I was good at Potions, and he _was_ my Head of House, as well as my father's friend. But even I could tell he was shit at teaching. Flitwick was my favourite professor, actually, and I've kept a correspondence with him periodically through the years."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "Huh. Well, you're right. Snape was a war hero, but he was definitely a shite teacher. I'm sure it's not a surprise my favourite was Remus, but as he was only there a year, my other is probably also Flitwick. He always made it interesting and encouraged everyone."

Draco smiled fondly. "Yes, he did. So, tell me something about yourself most people don't know. Nothing serious, just something _unknown."_

Harry thought about it a moment. "I can feel magic when I touch someone."

Blond eyebrows shot up in shock. "You're a Sensitive?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what it's called. I never really talked about it with anyone. Most of my life, I just assumed it was something all wizards and witches could do—that magical people felt _different_. I don't normally even notice it anymore; though if someone is remarkably powerful, it catches my attention. It wasn't until about a year ago when I overheard a conversation at work that I realised others couldn't do it. I kinda felt Ron and George out about it a bit without saying anything concrete, and realised it was just one more thing to make me different." He scowled. "I really don't like being different; so, you know, I've kept it to myself."

Draco stared. "And I'm the only one you've ever told?"

Harry nodded and watched Draco's grey eyes intensify.

"I like knowing something nobody else knows, Harry." His voice was low and smooth, then he smiled. "It's an amazing talent, actually. I don't have any secret like that to offer in return, unfortunately. I was just going to tell you I sucked on my thumb until I was six years old."

"An oral fixation, huh?" Harry laughed and waggled his eyebrows, then continued. "Well, that's definitely an equal trade in my books. Merlin, I wish I could see cute little-boy-Draco sucking his thumb."

Draco gave him a half-smile. "I was adorable, Potter."

The dessert course came out and Harry sipped his wine, taking the opportunity to enjoy the thrill of the moment. He noticed Draco watching him and decided to turn the conversation up a notch.

Draco must have had the same thought because he beat him to it. "Okay, who was your first kiss?"

Harry cringed. "Cho Chang, fifth year." He gave an exaggerated shiver at the memory.

"That good, huh?" Draco said with a laugh. "I'd heard rumours about you and the Patil twins after the Yule Ball in fourth year, and you and Diggory before the second task in the Prefects Bathroom. I suppose those were all crap?"

"Ha!" Harry scoffed. "Diggory was hung up on Cho and totally straight—and honestly, it hadn't even occurred to me that boys were an option at that point. Parvati was pretty, but I was a terrible date, and both she and her sister were disgusted with the whole evening. So yeah, all crap. You?"

"If you don't count Pansy when we were eight, then it'd be Blaise when we were fourteen and trying to figure out if _boys were an option,_ as you put it. We both decided they were, but we just as quickly agreed that the option did _not_ include the two of us together, thank Merlin. That'd have been a disaster and a half."

Harry grinned in acknowledgement and watched as Draco took a bite of his vanilla souffle. "Okay, my turn. What's your favourite sex position?"

Draco was well trained, evidently, in not choking on his food in surprise, but Harry was pleased to see the effort it took him to retain his composure. He completed his bite and took a sip of water, then raised a single blond eyebrow; Harry found himself utterly aroused.

"Well, _Harry,_ that's an interesting question. How _in detail_ do you want me to get? Are you asking if I prefer to top or bottom? Perhaps you'd like to know if I prefer to do it from behind, or like to be face-to-face? Maybe you're asking if I prefer a blowjob to a rimjob? Please, enlighten me to which you're inquiring?"

Harry felt his face flush bright red and his cock harden at the images the words conjured in his mind, but he couldn't help but appreciate the response. He decided to push back. "All of the above, I think, _Draco_. You know, just to get to _know my_ _friend better_."

Draco laughed and his neck turned slightly pink, but otherwise, he looked unembarrassed and just met Harry's gaze in amusement. "Hmm, let's see." He tapped his finger to his lip, drawing Harry's eyes to his pink mouth, eliciting visions that had to be pushed aside for the time being. "I like to top _and_ bottom, depending on my mood. From behind or face-to-face also depends on how romantic I'm feeling at the time—there's something _animalistic_ about it from behind that's exciting, but the connection of face-to-face allows for eye contact that I find… arousing." His voice ended on a growl, and his eyes wouldn't leave Harry's. "And you, Harry?"

Harry's throat felt as tight as his pants, but he cleared it and continued in a low voice. "I've generally topped, but that's been more because of the preference of my partners than because of my own; they seem to have fantasies of being taken by _men of power_." He rolled his eyes at that. "I don't know that I have a preference as to an actual position, but I do know that I enjoy giving and receiving blowjobs quite a bit. Um, and rimjobs aren't anything I've actually had any experience with." He was proud that he got that last bit out without a blush or a voice crack.

Draco took a final bite of his dessert and licked the back of his spoon slowly. "That's truly sad, Harry." He grinned. "Did you want any tea or anything, or are you finished?"

Harry watched the spoon and with the rimjob discussion still in mind, decided he needed to turn the situation back into his favour. Slowly, he took his napkin from his lap, set it on the table, and stood. He watched Draco eyeing him as he rose, then the man's eyes dropped to Harry's clearly aroused state, and Harry smirked. "I believe I'm finished with my dinner. Thank you, Draco; it was lovely." He took a step forward and leaned down near Draco's ear to whisper, "Why don't you join me in the sitting room so we can discuss your _big plan_ from earlier."

And with that parting shot and Draco's intake of breath, Harry strode from the room as confidently as he could with an uncomfortable erection.

* * *

Draco watched Harry's perfectly pert arse as he left the room and felt his jaw slacken. The man's unabashed state of arousal and his gently whispered tease pushed Draco into action.

"Polly," he summoned. A female house-elf with a round nose and droopy ears popped into the room. "We're finished here, thank you. Dinner was lovely. We'll be having drinks in the sitting room and should not be disturbed."

"Yes, Mr Malfoy, sir." The elf bobbed and set about clearing the table as Draco rose to follow Harry from the room.

Right now, the power of the situation was in Harry's hands. He'd made the last move; he'd issued the challenge. Draco had only moments to decide how he wanted the dynamics of the situation to play out. Should he challenge back, or answer the challenge already issued?

As it turned out, he didn't get the opportunity to decide.

He walked into the room and was immediately pushed back into the wall, Harry's face just inches from his.

"Draco," Harry murmured, his sweet breath washing over Draco, his deep green eyes on Draco's. "If you want me to step back and for us to remain friends in the way we've been recently, this is your chance. I think I've made clear where my preferences lie."

Draco's eyes fell to the plump lips in front of him, slightly chapped from the winter cold. Harry's tongue flickered out to wet them, and Draco lost all thought of planning his next step. He simply leaned forward and captured Harry's mouth with his, feeling the conflicting contours of softness and strength.

A low moan escaped one of them, and while Draco was hard-pressed to know who it came from, the vibration of his own chest suggested it was him. Harry ran his tongue across the corner of Draco's mouth, and this time he was _sure_ the whimper was his own, as his jaw dropped down simultaneously, letting Harry inside.

The man tasted like vanilla and chardonnay and something else uniquely Harry; his tongue expertly explored, drawing forth waves of pleasure. Draco's inner critique was disrupted as Harry pushed his body up against Draco's, moving deeper into the kiss. Though they were of nearly equal height—Draco had about an inch on the Gryffindor—Draco found himself under Harry, perhaps due to the angle they were standing. Whatever the case, he grabbed on to Harry, holding one hand onto a shoulder and wrapping the other up through his surprisingly soft messy hair.

This time the moan was Harry's, and Draco moved his other hand from the surprisingly muscular shoulder to join the first, causing the moan to increase in volume. Harry obviously enjoyed the feel of hands in his hair and moved from ravishing Draco's mouth to trailing his mouth down Draco's jaw, licking and muttering as he went.

"God, Draco, you taste amazing. I could just lick you all over." Harry gave a little thrust of his hips with that last statement and Draco became more aware of both of their erections, now in contact and brushing against each other with each movement. Harry kept talking, while Draco just struggled to take in the tidal wave of feelings and thoughts and smells and tastes. He felt as though he were drowning in sensations.

"Harry," he gasped.

"This is all I've thought about this week," the man whispered into his ear before he caught the lobe gently between his teeth. "I'm so glad we both turned to the same page at about the same time."

Draco moaned loudly this time and let his head fall back, allowing better access to the sensitive areas on his neck, then moved his own hands from the soft hair down to Harry's waist and slid his hands under the other man's jumper. Finding the warm skin beneath his fingers, he felt a thrill of triumph run through him at the hard muscles bunching under his touch.

"Draco," Harry gasped as he stopped his own ministrations for a moment and caught his breath. "This is moving quite a bit faster than I'd intended. Are you okay? Should we stop, or do you want to keep going?"

Thinking that one through, Draco continued to run his fingers across the soft down and tensed stomach. A slight movement downward would allow him to grasp Harry's cock. _Hell, yes_ , he wanted to keep going. Suddenly, he remembered Andromeda's words— _enjoy the buildup_ ; so instead, he removed his hand and found Harry's mouth again, giving him a slower kiss, then pulling back.

"You're right. We should slow down."

Harry stepped back, giving Draco room to push off the wall and move slightly to the side. They each took a good look at the state of the other, and burst into simultaneous laughter, though Draco took the opportunity to put several additional feet between them.

"You look utterly debauched," Harry said with a lecherous grin.

Draco straightened his clothing and found several buttons that'd come undone near his neck somehow. He assumed he was going to have to fix a few love bites on his neck before returning home for the evening, but he didn't regret it. He thought Harry might need to do the same, but he wasn't going to be the one to point it out.

"Yes, well," he finally responded, "I _feel_ utterly debauched. I meant what I said earlier. I want us to become better friends, and I most definitely want _this_ , whatever this ends up being."

Harry's smile grew broader and he took a step towards Draco, but Draco took a corresponding step back.

"But more importantly, Harry, I've come to value your friendship, and I _don't_ want to fuck that up because we jumped into bed together before we were ready."

Harry's smile faded slightly, making Draco feel as though part of the light had left the room. He wanted to kick himself for being the cause of that, but it was important.

Harry nodded, and when he spoke, his voice sounded disappointed but resolved. "You're right; of course. Especially with what's going on with Andromeda and Teddy, we'd probably best keep this more casual for a bit."

Draco sighed in relief at Harry's agreement. "So maybe we should draw some lines? Lay some ground rules for now?" He walked over and sat on the arm of a chair. "I know neither of us is seeing anyone else, but even though we're casual for the moment, can we agree that we do _not_ see anyone else without breaking this off?"

Harry laughed. "Easy enough. I haven't dated in ages, so yeah, no one else while we're doing… whatever this is." He thought about it for a moment, then perched opposite Draco on the back of another chair. "I'd like to keep seeing you like we've been doing, with and without Teddy; I'm really enjoying spending time with you. But nothing like _this_ in front of the kid, agreed? No kissing or anything we wouldn't normally do while he's around."

Draco nodded emphatically. "Nothing in front of anyone, from my point of view." Harry cocked his head questioningly, so Draco explained. "We have enough differences between us to push through if we're going to have any kind of… does relationship fit as a term for you?"

"Yeah, _relationship_ works for me. Better than _better friends_ ," Harry said with a little smirk.

"Oh, shut up, you berk. Fine. As I was saying, we're going to have enough challenges beginning a _relationship_ without dealing with the opinions and interference of friends, family, acquaintances, and the general public. I'd prefer we keep this private for now and get to know what we're like together _without_ all of that before we introduce any added inconvenience."

Harry scrunched his forehead, looking adorably frustrated. "I don't think of my friends and family as an inconvenience, Draco, and I don't keep things from Ron and Hermione."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm sure I won't be able to keep it from Pansy, either, and Andromeda already figured out something was going on."

Harry blushed. "She did? Uh, what did she say?"

Draco looked away, trying to appear unconcerned. "She's not against it, if that's what you're asking. Anything more, and you'll have to ask her." He looked back to Harry and smiled. "I can't spill all my secrets, can I? Anyway, I just thought the fewer people interfering, the easier it'll be for now, right?"

"Okay. So, as far as anyone else is concerned, nothing has changed. But when we're alone?" Harry's eyes darkened and his voice lowered. "I don't mind slowing down, Draco, but I do want to move forward."

Draco swallowed. "As do I. How about… nothing under the clothes until Andromeda is ready to take Teddy again."

"Three weeks?" Harry looked pained. "Do you know how long I've gone without sex?"

"Probably long enough that three weeks shouldn't make a difference," Draco said, allowing the sarcasm to drip through. "Think of it as foreplay."

"Foreplay?"

Draco got up and walked to Harry, standing between his spread knees. He leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Yes, _foreplay_. Haven't you heard of it, Potter?" Then he stepped back and left the room. He could hear Harry's bark of laughter behind him. Merlin, this was going to be frustrating, but damned if it wouldn't also be fun.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

_The conversation between your fingers and someone else's skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have. -Iain Thomas_

* * *

_Two more weeks._ It'd only been one week since they'd made their agreement, and Harry already felt as though the waiting might kill him.

The seven days had passed mostly as the previous weeks had, with Harry and Draco passing Teddy back and forth between households. Andromeda was staying at Malfoy Manor now, completing the final stretch of her recovery, and though Teddy was pleased to have his grandmother nearby, he continued to spend part of the week with Harry to give Andromeda and Narcissa a necessary break.

The biggest difference in their routine was that now, instead of Draco picking up Teddy at Molly's, or Harry dropping him with Narcissa, they adjusted their timing to find a few minutes together. This resulted in some quick snogging behind the broom shed at the Burrow and a hurried bout of groping in the Manor's cloakroom. Neither man took it far—and they were sure to be discreet—but the result was that Harry felt that he was walking around with a perpetual hard-on. _Foreplay,_ Draco had called it. Ugh.

Finally, they'd gotten to spend some time together the previous evening, watching another movie with Teddy at Grimmauld Place. This one was about a little girl and her blue pet alien who liked Elvis. Teddy loved it, but Harry spent most of the movie watching Draco's reactions. The man laughed at the alien's antics, teared up watching the little girl and her sister, and spent most of the movie with a contented smile on his face. Periodically, he'd catch Harry's eye and give him _that smile_ —the one that'd made Harry realise that Draco was something he'd wanted that night in the pub. The smile that Harry was nearly ready to devote all his free time to enticing back out from behind that stubborn Malfoy mask the man liked to wear out of habit.

They'd kept Teddy up late, silently agreeing they needed him to remain near as a chaperone. The three of them played Snakes and Brooms, laughed, teased, and generally had a lovely time together. There had been light touches, knee and elbow bumps, and long looks that had kept the evening interesting, but overall, Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so completely relaxed in any adult's company outside Ron and Hermione. It all just felt so _easy_.

That thought brought a smile to his face as he returned from the loo, then his mind went blank as he stopped dead in his tracks. Lying across the sofa, head propped on one of those throw pillows Hermione had left here, was Draco, lightly snoring. Teddy was strewn across his chest, his little head covered in light blond hair to match the man who held him. Harry stood near the fireplace watching them both sleep.

His heart thudded so loudly he was surprised it hadn't alerted Draco to his presence. He couldn't love the man, could he? They hadn't even slept together yet. They really had only had the one date—though honestly, he supposed they'd been practically dating for two months already. No, it wasn't love, he didn't think. Yet. But it damned well could be soon.

He took a deep breath as he watched Draco nuzzle Teddy lightly as they slept. Yeah, really soon. He just hoped he was ready.

* * *

"Potter, how can you possibly like Quidditch and still insist on calling the Cannons a legitimate team?" Draco asked a week later, glancing over at Harry as they left the Quidditch stadium. They were both wearing light glamours to escape the notice of the other fans, and Draco regretted the necessity as Harry's sandy brown hair blew in the wind of the cold dark evening. Harry's voice, however, remained his own and poked at Draco in the way Draco was coming to enjoy.

Harry laughed. "They're not my favourites, but they _are_ entertaining. You can't have all teams in the top of the standings, so why not have a fun one at the bottom?" He grinned cheekily, and Draco was glad to see Harry's own smile peek through the magical disguise. Harry looked around at the Muggle streets of Wimbourne Minster and tugged at the arm of Draco's coat. "I'm not ready to go home yet, but I couldn't possibly eat or drink anything else. Let's go for a walk, yeah?"

Draco shrugged, then discreetly cast a warming charm on them both.

Harry gave him another large smile, making Draco's chest swell in pleasure. "Thanks. I didn't even realise I was cold. Come on."

They began walking, looking in shop windows and talking, comparing preferences and stories. Draco realised they were mostly alone on the street, so reached for and took Harry's hand. Harry's face turned to Draco's almost shyly, but the hand in Draco's gave a quick squeeze. They continued on, talking less, but Harry's finger began to trace the back of Draco's hand, and Draco honestly couldn't concentrate on anything else anyway.

"...don't you think?"

"Hmm?" Draco answered absent-mindedly.

Harry chuckled. "I said, that looks like a quiet and somewhat charming little park there. Let's go that way."

Draco shrugged and allowed himself to be drawn into the park, where Harry suddenly pushed him off the path behind a tree.

"Potter, what do you think—"

Harry crushed his mouth to Draco's, and Draco immediately turned, pushing Harry against the tree before Harry could do the same to him.

"It's not _seemly_ for a Malfoy to be observed up against a tree snogging, Potter. Besides, you don't get to control it every time." Then he plunged back in, groaning as Harry opened his mouth, allowing Draco to dive in and taste and tease. He ran his hands down Harry's arms and hips, then grabbed his arse, pulling forward slightly so they could feel one another fully. He gently caressed Harry's cheeks through his jeans, and he wanted nothing more than to slip his hands down inside and run his fingers along the cleft.

Harry's head fell back, and Draco took the opportunity to trail his mouth down the man's neck, licking at his Adam's apple that bobbed in front of him, and feeling the rough scratch of Harry's daily growth. He'd never admit it, but he loved that he looked so scruffy by the end of the evening, the shadow of whiskers outlining his strong jaw. The feel of the scruff over Draco's generally smooth skin was terribly erotic, and Draco imagined the same feel scratching over his abdomen and thighs.

The thought of that had him mindlessly thrusting his hips into the other man's, which was answered with a moan and a matching movement. Draco was utterly lost in the moment, his thoughts only on what he was feeling, and on the man beneath him against the tree.

"Oi! You there! This is a public park!" a man's voice yelled from the nearby pathway.

Draco jerked back, breathless, and Harry chuckled and waved to the voice that Draco refused to turn and see.

"Sorry! Thanks for the reminder, mate!"

The man seemed to walk on, muttering, and Draco could feel the blush move across his face. "Well, that was good timing. Sorry about that."

Harry pulled him back to him again, wrapping his arms around Draco's slighter frame. He looked Draco in the face and drew his wand, clearing their glamour charms. "Mmm, better." He leaned forwards and nibbled on Draco's chin, then gave him a light kiss. "One more week, right? Andi will be ready to take him home in one week."

Draco let his head fall forward and rested his forehead on Harry's. "One more week, yes. Think we'll make it?"

Harry stood up straight, took Draco's arm and wrapped it around his. "Indubitably, my dear fellow," he said in a very proper accent, his nose in the air, making Draco roll his eyes at his antics. "Come now, let's be off." He grinned at Draco, then waggled his eyebrows. "One week."

* * *

"Hey, Harry! Wait up!"

Neville chased Harry down the hallway outside the Auror's offices at nearly six in the evening the following Friday. Harry tried to ignore him; he _did_. It was just that Neville was insistent that there was a new case that had just opened up, and as it was now after hours on Friday, Harry's desk duty was finally over and Robards had insisted that Harry needed to take it.

"What the hell, Neville? I have plans!"

Neville looked apologetic. "Another date? Same person?"

Harry glared, then nodded. "Yes, if you must know. And they're expecting me by seven. I need to get out of here and get cleaned up. I meant to leave an hour ago."

"Harry... I'm sorry, but Robards insisted. You know how he is. If you leave, he'll just come to get you and make you work it all weekend. Just take the case, get it started, then pick it up Monday if it's not urgent."

Harry sighed. "Right. Damn. Can you find me an owl so I can send a note?"

"Sure. They'll understand, right?"

Harry thought about the three weeks of waiting and shook his head. "Somehow, I kind of doubt it. But they'll have to get used to this happening if they're going to date me, I suppose."

* * *

Draco was pissed off. And horny, and frustrated, but mostly, pissed off. He'd waited three bloody weeks for this evening. Hell, he'd waited three bloody months for it, as he could see now that this is where they'd been heading since that first cup of disgusting tea in the St Mungo's tearoom. And now, now that the day was here and he'd taken off work early and spent the entire evening preparing himself—primping, shaving, and generally making himself the best and most attractive version of himself— _now_ the man sends a note that he'll be late and isn't sure how long. " _Something came up at work."_

He knew he was entering a relationship with an Auror, but he hadn't really thought about what that meant. With Harry having been on desk duty while Andromeda was ill, he hadn't been exposed to the downside of that profession. He sat at the desk in his office as he _waited_ and considered further. He assumed there'd be late dinners occasionally, and cancelled dates, perhaps the occasional remote assignment. He could cope with those, though they would likely drive him crazy if he didn't actually plan for them.

He stopped, then considered. _That's it._ He'd plan for this kind of thing. He'd know that it was always a possibility, and he'd plan. He'd make sure he had backups and contingency plans, and then it wouldn't bother him when it happened.

What else should he plan for? He tried to think if he'd read any reports of Harry getting injured, but couldn't remember any recently. He should probably prepare himself that it'd happen eventually, but he didn't think he needed to go so far as to plan for that one. He began taking notes and mapping out ideas in his journal as his Floo flared.

"Pot—" he cut off, seeing Pansy step through the flames.

"Draco? Well, don't you look lovely? Fancy evening planned?"

Draco scowled. "Yes, now I'll thank you to go away."

She laughed and sat down in the chair across from him, resting her arms elegantly along the arms of the chair. "You'd think that if you had such good plans, you'd be in a better mood. Come, now. Tell me what's bothering you."

"He's late."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you're still going?" She looked sceptical.

"Yes, well, he has a good excuse, and I may have to get used to it if we continue dating, but I don't like it."

"Really?" She cocked her head. "Interesting. You never tolerate that. So, do I know him?"

He remained silent, and she gave a knowing smile.

"Ah, so I _do_ know him, otherwise you'd have said so." She tapped her nails on the chair as she thought. "It must be someone from work, as you haven't been doing anything else lately except work and—"

She stopped, eying him closely. "No, surely not. Draco—"

The fire flared again, and Draco closed his eyes, knowing that his luck this evening made the presence in the fire inevitable.

"Draco? Hey, I'm so sorry—" started the face in the fire, then it cut off as Harry must have noticed Pansy sitting with Draco.

"Ah, I didn't realise you had anyone there. Hello, Pansy." Draco opened one eye to watch the scene unfolding before him.

Pansy raised both eyebrows in surprise at being addressed by her first name. A smirk slowly crossed her face. "Hello, _Har-ry_." She drew the name out slowly as she glanced at Draco. "You know, _Harry_ , Draco really hates people being late."

Draco sat back, opening his eyes, and met Harry's. Harry looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Draco, really. I'm, ah—" He glanced at Pansy, then his head moved to the side as though he'd given a little shrug. "I'm free now. If you still wanted to, er, talk about Teddy."

Pansy laughed. "Teddy, indeed. I think this Kneazle's out of the proverbial bag, Potter, but don't worry," she glanced at Draco now who was just staring at them both, doing his best to keep anything from displaying on his face, "I won't say anything."

She stood. "If you'll leave the fire, _Harry_ , I'll take my leave, then I'm sure Draco will be by soon."

He gave her a grateful smile, then looked worriedly at Draco. Draco gave him a curt nod, then watched the fire clear.

Pansy walked over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I hope it's fun. Give him hell."

After Pansy left, Draco put away his journal and slowly straightened his clothing, then stepped through the Floo to Grimmauld Place.

* * *

Harry was pacing back and forth in front of the window. He'd taken a few minutes to shower, and while his hair was still damp, he'd at least remembered to dress a bit nicer, putting on charcoal-coloured slacks and a pale yellow jumper. He paused when he saw Draco, and let out a breath in relief that the man had come. He'd doubted he would for a few minutes there. They'd both been so eager for the evening, waiting for weeks, and then Harry had to go and screw it up. Hell, he was mad at himself.

"Draco—"

"It's fine, Harry," Draco cut him off, sounding calm and unaffected, and Harry felt the surprise rush through him. "Pansy's right that I don't like it when people are late—and I admit that I was angry at first—but you were kind enough to send me a note, which I appreciate." Draco stepped closer and Harry watched the firelight shimmer off his pale hair. "I considered and realised that this is part of your job, and it's one that I'll have to get used to it if we're going to be in a relationship." He smiled as he drawled out the last word, and Harry felt his worried face relax. "As long as you try to minimise it happening, and you let me know when it _does_ so I don't wonder what happened to you, I'll learn to deal with it." He stepped forward, closer to Harry. "What was it you said? ' _You don't berate them or pick at them for mistakes?'"_

Harry cocked his head, his brows wrinkled in confusion. "When did I say—"

Draco blushed slightly, and it was adorable. "That night when we were talking about relationships at the pub. You said that one should accept the other person for who they are. I accept who you are, and if that means you're late because your job sometimes unexpectedly keeps you after hours, then that's just something I need to learn to cope with."

Harry felt the warmth of the moment fill his stomach. "You remember what I said? That was weeks ago."

Draco nodded, then stepped closer and Harry felt the man's hand move up his shoulder. "It really resonated with me. It made me see something in front of me that I might have otherwise missed because I was so busy looking for fireworks."

Harry chuckled in amusement. "Fireworks, huh? Maybe we just haven't gotten there yet."

Draco pulled him forward, and Harry felt Draco's soft, smooth lips on his. He tasted like coffee and whisky, but he smelled slightly of citrus and pine. The combination was heady, and Harry leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly and delighting in the sensations.

Harry leaned back just a bit, letting Draco kiss along his jaw. "The three weeks are over, Draco; had you noticed?"

Draco grunted as he caught Harry's earlobe between his teeth, and Harry's felt the blood running to the lower part of his body.

"I was going to suggest we have something to eat," Harry got out as he felt a puff of warm breath in his ear, "but I think we should hold off on that, don't you?"

"Potter?"

"Hmm?" God, the man's mouth was magic. Harry hadn't even known that spot behind his ear existed.

"Shut the fuck up and take me upstairs."

Harry let out a strangled laugh as he felt Draco's tongue find a spot near his collarbone, then wrapped his arm around the man and Apparated them to his bedroom. Thankful he'd taken the time that morning to change his sheets and make his bed—he'd been hopeful that this exact situation would come to pass—he dragged Draco with him towards the oversized monstrosity he'd inherited with Grimmauld Place.

Draco took a moment to step back and look around. "What the hell kind of bed is that?"

Harry tugged his jumper over his head, his vest coming with it, then looked at Draco boldly. "A Black family piece, most likely. Came with the house. Now, are you going to keep talking about the decor, or are you going to fuck me?"

Draco's grey eyes dilated, and Harry felt the thrill of the challenge, reminiscent of their schoolboy days. Draco stepped forward and used both hands to push Harry back onto the bed. His eyes seemed to devour Harry as he slowly unbuckled his own belt, then let his trousers fall to his feet, slowly kicking them behind him.

"That was a lovely invitation, Potter, but don't think you're going to get away that easily. I'm going to make you _beg_ for it first. I'm not going to fuck you until you're pleading with me to pound you into this ridiculous bed."

_Well, my cock seemed to like the sound of_ that, Harry thought wryly as it made its presence known. He reached down to reposition it and to relieve the pressure of his jeans slightly, but Draco grabbed his hand.

"Let me," he whispered, then dropped Harry's hand and moved his own to the fly of Harry's jeans. Slowly, he moved his hand up and down the outline of Harry's erection, and Harry involuntarily arched into the touch with a moan. Finally, Draco unbuttoned the top and began to pull them down Harry's legs, letting his hand brush the newly revealed flesh as he went.

"Draco," Harry gasped, seeing the drops of precum already smudging his straining boxers.

Draco removed Harry's shoes and socks, and strangely enough, that felt more intimate than everything else before. The gentleness of the act, the care and tenderness of his slow removal warmed Harry's stomach and tightened his chest. Draco caressed Harry's bare feet gently, then began to run his fingers back up Harry's legs.

"You're fucking beautiful, Harry. It's not fair, honestly, that you have so much going for you, and then you look like this. Merlin, I just want to taste you all over."

Harry blushed, but pushed himself up on his elbows and raked his eyes down Draco's body. Draco reached for Harry's pants, and Harry stopped him.

"No. I want to see you first. Take off your shirt, please."

"Harry," Draco said, hesitating.

"Draco, I want to see all of you. You've seen me and all my scars" —Harry nodded to the marks littering his body— "let me see _you_."

Draco nodded, slowly removing his shirt. Harry watched as the pale flesh was slowly unveiled, pale pink nipples and porcelain skin that made him want to run his fingers across it to see if it was as soft as it appeared. He could also now make out the barely visible slashing scars across Draco's torso, remnants of Harry's stupid teenaged decision that could have cost this man his life. Harry reached up and ran a finger across one of the slightly raised marks, then he met Draco's eyes with regret.

"I didn't know what it did. I'm so sorry. I was stupid, and—"

Harry was cut off by Draco's mouth covering his. "You talk too much," Draco muttered before he began kissing Harry more thoroughly.

Slowly, Draco began moving back down Harry's body a second time, this time pausing at Harry's navel, allowing his tongue to follow the trail of hair down to his waistband. Harry felt his cock twitch, straining to get closer to Draco's chin that was hovering just above it.

Draco chuckled, and hooked a finger on either side of Harry's hips and tugged the boxers down, pulling them off his body. Harry's erection sprang free, and Draco leaned forwards to catch it with his tongue. Both men moaned as Draco enveloped Harry's shaft with his mouth.

Harry lay back, trying not to thrust into the other man's tight throat. He wasn't sure if Draco was just really good at this, or if the weeks of buildup had put Harry into a state where he was overly sensitive and receptive to any ministrations. Knowing it was likely a mixture of both, Harry decided to stop thinking and simply _feel_.

Just then, Draco's tongue did some strange swirly manoeuvre that nearly sent Harry flying from the bed. "Oh Merlin, Draco..."

Harry felt a chuckle come from Draco's throat and had to keep himself from coming. The combined vibration and clenching of throat muscles where the head of Harry's prick currently resided was nearly too much. Harry reached down and pulled Draco back up to his mouth.

"Need a minute," he panted, "or this will be over before it starts." Harry caught his breath, then pushed up and flipped Draco over onto his back with a quiet growl, hovering by his side.

"I always imagined you'd want to rush things," Draco muttered as Harry's lips began to slowly move down, his tongue flicking over Draco's nipples.

"Nah, I've learned patience in my old age. Now it's my turn to get a good look." Harry pulled Draco's pants down over his slim hips and was stunned by the light, nearly invisible fuzz covering the man. "God, you're gorgeous." Kneeling on Draco's left side, Harry dove down and began to nuzzle, then use his tongue to lap at the dip where Draco's leg joined his beautiful torso.

As Draco moaned, Harry decided it was the most glorious sound he'd heard in ages and set out to make it happen again. He looked over to Draco's cock, the skin nearly translucent and the shaft thicker than seemed reasonable for such a slim man. Making eye contact with Draco, Harry ran the deliciously soft knob across his face, relishing the man's sharp inhale of breath.

Instead of taking the knob into his mouth, as Draco no doubt assumed would happen, Harry dropped lower and lapped at the balls that clung tightly to Draco's body, conveying to Harry how aroused Draco already was. Finally, Harry moved back up and took the entirety of Draco's member into his mouth, relaxing his jaw and allowing the head of Draco's cock to hit the back of his throat. Draco groaned and rested his hands in Harry's hair. The feel of Draco's fingernails gently combing through his hair made him thrust his hips into the air automatically. _God,_ he loved the feel of that.

Harry lifted one arm off of the bed to help him work Draco's length, enjoying the sounds and movements the man was making. Who knew the idea of working Draco Malfoy into a frenzy would affect him so completely?

Harry felt Draco remove one of his hands from Harry's head, and before Harry could lament the change, he felt an arm on his thigh, gently pulling him closer to Draco. "Harry, move over me. Let me... please?"

The plea in Draco's voice cut through Harry's concentration, and he thought he knew what Draco was going for. He hummed as he continued to suck, but moved closer and swung his right knee up and over Draco's other side, so he was basically straddling the man's chest. Expecting to feel Draco's tongue on his cock again, he was slightly surprised to instead feel a lightly lubed finger caressing down the crack of his arse.

He pulled off Draco for a moment, letting his head fall onto the hip in front of him and just enjoyed the ministrations. Draco was muttering, and Harry caught quiet little words such as "unfair" and "lovely", but in the end, he gave up trying to make them out and returned to the task he'd set for himself: the beautiful prick before him.

He gasped as he felt Draco slide one finger in and gently begin to work him open. On the second finger, it burned slightly, and he knew he had to be tight as it'd been nearly two years since he'd last been with someone. He rarely took the time to indulge himself with his arse when he wanked as it was more work than he was used to spending on just himself. Draco clearly knew what he was doing, though, and within seconds Harry was writhing in pleasure and losing sight of his own job.

Lying down flat with his arse in Draco's face, he reached over for his wand and conjured some lube, then rubbing it over his neck, he tucked Draco's prick under his chin snuggly and just moved. The groans from behind him made it sound as though his choice was acceptable. The fingers in his arse seemed to take that as encouragement and twisted, hitting Harry's prostate and making him gasp aloud.

"Draco—Merlin—I'm ready. Just fuck me now?"

Draco was silent but kept working, and Harry writhed, Draco's prick still lodged under his chin and throbbing with each movement Harry made.

"Draco, pleeease…"

He heard the man chuckle, then gently withdrew his fingers, leaving Harry's arse feeling bereft and empty. Turning Harry around and onto his back, Draco held out his hand. "Lube," he got out with a gasp.

Harry grabbed his wand and conjured more, then tossed the wand out of the way and lifted his knees. "Now," he demanded, and Draco laughed outright this time.

"There's that impatient Gryffindor I was waiting for. Hold on, Potter. I don't want to hurt your delicate arse." Harry watched Draco apply the lube to his cock, then meeting Harry's eyes, Draco leaned over, keeping his face in line with Harry's. He lined up to Harry's rim and gently pushed forward.

The feel of Draco Malfoy penetrating him for the first time was something that Harry thought he'd likely remember for the rest of his life. It started softly, then grew with each slow thrust. It was like a challenge, and a welcome, and a homecoming all at the same time. Their eyes maintained their connection, and Harry watched the silvery grey irises all but fade to black the longer they stayed joined. With each thrust, each moan, Harry felt more of each part of his body reacting to the other man. Each brush of his legs against Draco's hips, each drip of Draco's sweat onto his face, each caress of Draco's nipples felt as though his body were exploding with feeling. It was pleasure like he'd never known before.

Draco seemed to be feeling something similar. Harry wasn't sure what he normally looked like as he shagged, but he doubted this look of amazement and surprise was typical. Unable to do anything else, Harry held on to Draco's shoulders and raised his knees even higher as Draco began to brush against that bundle of nerves that made him see stars, allowing the man to bring them both closer to ecstasy.

"Harry," Draco got out between pants. "I'm close. Merlin, you feel amazing. Are you close?"

Harry nodded, then as Draco leaned down to kiss him, Harry careened over the edge. Shouting out, he'd no idea if Draco had followed until he felt Draco pulsing, shooting inside him and filling him with his wet heat. After several more thrusts, Harry's legs lost their battle and fell, limp and lifeless to the side. Draco collapsed on top of Harry while still inside him, Harry's cum practically sealing them together; neither moved for several moments, both clearly exhausted and sated.

Harry caught his breath, then looked down at the blond head resting on his chest. Raising a hand, he gently pushed the sweaty hair off the man's brow, then ran his fingers gently through the light hair and down Draco's back. Draco shuddered, then tucked his hands back behind Harry's butt. There was nothing sexual about it; it was just soft, and possessive, like a child with a cuddly toy.

Harry chuckled. "Hey."

Draco looked up and met his gaze with a look that Harry could only call tender. "Potter," he mumbled quietly.

"Hungry?"

Draco looked at the clock on the wall, then laid his head back down. "I don't suppose you have a house-elf or something? I really don't want to leave the room."

Harry laughed. "No, but I'll go down and bring us something up, okay?" He leaned down and planted a kiss on Draco's head. "But you'll have to move."

Draco groaned, then rolled over, making Harry hiss as he felt the man's cock pull out of his tender arse. "I might take a quick shower while you're downstairs if you don't mind. I feel like I've played an eight-hour Quidditch match."

Harry cast a quick cleansing charm on himself, then stood up, stretched, and walked to the door, completely naked. He glanced over his shoulder and grinned as he left the room. "At least you caught the snitch this time."

He heard the sound of Draco laughing as he hobbled down the stairs, and smiled to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick but sincere note of thanks this chapter as we approach the end. Thank you to [Drarrelie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrelie/pseuds/Drarrelie) and [Drarrymadhatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrymadhatter/pseuds/Drarrymadhatter) for their support and awesome beta work in this story. You've both taken time out of your busy crazy schedules to help me get it ready, and it's so very much appreciated. This wouldn't be what it is without you!


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

_Love without conversation is impossible. - Mortimer Adler_

* * *

Draco stood in Harry's large ceramic tiled shower, allowing the water to cascade down his body in pleasure. It felt good to get the sweat and such—Harry's cum—off of him. He almost giggled at that thought. Merlin, he and Harry Potter had just had sex. Good sex. Amazing sex. Fucking fantastically amazing sex. He let his head fall back and relived the pleasure.

It had been insanely intense, each moment, each movement. When he'd entered Harry, he'd felt a sense of peace and belonging that he'd never imagined before. And oh, Salazar, when Harry had caressed his head after, his world tilted. Not that he could say such a thing aloud; but here, in his head, he could think it.

He heard Harry enter the bathroom, and leaned his head back to rinse the remaining soap. He'd used Harry's Muggle shampoo, and of course, the man had no conditioner. His hair would likely be unmanageable after, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He turned off the water, and Harry handed him a towel around the curtain.

"Feel better?" Harry asked cheerfully. "I brought up some sandwiches and crisps. I hope that's all right. I had planned on making a nice dinner tonight, but…"

"Sandwiches and crisps are fine, Harry." Draco stepped out of the shower and stopped at the sight of Harry, still completely nude and leaning against the bathroom door. The man looked entirely too cocky and sure of himself, but Draco found it hard to hold it against him. He supposed he deserved it.

Harry smirked. "Like what you see, Malfoy? Come on, I set it up by the fire."

Draco raised an eyebrow and didn't budge. "You may be fine walking around so inappropriately attired, Potter, but I chill easily. Do you have a dressing gown I might borrow?"

Harry laughed, then left the room, returning several moments later with two dressing gowns. Tossing one to Draco, he draped the other around his own frame and slid his arms through. "There. Better? Now come on, I'm starving."

They sat at a small table near the fire Harry must have started in the hearth while Draco was in the shower. It was cosy and pleasant, and Draco relaxed as he sipped his tea and took the occasional bite of sandwich. "What's the story with the furniture? It seems so out of place."

Harry followed Draco's gaze to the matching bedroom suite; bed, bureau and dressing table all made of heavy dark wood with carved snakes and scowling faces. He shrugged. "It works well enough. You're a Black by blood, so I assume you know they weren't the most, er, light of families."

Draco snorted at that and was pleased the sound made Harry smile.

"Anyway, after the war, I started refurbishing the place. I've mostly redone the rooms— ripping out the walls and replacing them, refinishing the floors and so on—but some of the furnishings seemed in good condition and were kind of pointless to replace just because I didn't care for the way they looked. I thought they might scare Teddy and was ready to pitch them as he got older, but he's so used to them that they don't seem to phase him."

Draco finished his sandwich as Harry spoke and watched the firelight flicker across the glasses he'd donned during Draco's shower. He'd gotten used to seeing him without them—contact lenses, he'd said he wore now—and seeing him in glasses almost seemed strange. They made him look more like the boy he remembered, but instead of that turning Draco's attention to the past, it just reminded him of how far they'd come.

He put down his tea and took Harry's hand, pulling him up to stand in front of him. "Are you ready for another round?" he asked softly, running his finger along Harry's jawline. Harry tilted his head and Draco opened his palm, cupping the man's face.

"Most definitely."

This time, everything was slower, less rushed. Both men seemed determined to memorise each moment as it happened, and when this time Harry came inside of Draco, Draco was sure he'd lose consciousness in pleasure.

"Fireworks," he muttered as he collapsed on the bed afterwards, then clapped his mouth shut in embarrassment.

Harry rolled off of him, then glanced to the side where Draco laid, looking as though he were about to fall asleep. "Huh? Fireworks?" Then he smiled. "Oh yeah. Most definitely. Fireworks." He yawned. "See? I told you we were just building up to them. I need to sleep for a bit, but stay with me, 'kay?"

And with that, Harry began to snore. Draco laughed quietly, then pulled the eiderdown up over them both and snuggled into the pillow next to Harry.

* * *

Harry woke to thrashing and whimpers. It took him only a moment to fully awaken and assess the situation. Draco lay next to him, caught in the throes of a nightmare. He sounded like a wounded animal and lay curled in a ball, flinching and throwing his arms over his head as if to prevent an attack.

Harry waited, trying to decide the best course of action. Draco's wand was on the table near the fireplace, so Harry wasn't afraid that he'd be hit with a spell on waking. However, he knew that he sometimes had a tendency towards violence when he first awoke from his own nightmares—thankfully, he rarely seemed to have them when Teddy stayed over, most likely because he didn't sleep as soundly with the boy next to him.

As tears began to pour down Draco's face, Harry decided to act. He reached out quietly and touched the man's arm, tense and ready to move out of the way if he woke up swinging. Instead, Draco flinched away from him and moaned in pain.

"Draco, wake up. It's Harry. You're dreaming," Harry tried again, this time shaking him slightly more. This time the man's sobs turned to screams, and he started to shake. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit. Draco, wake up!" When Draco's tremors began to resemble full convulsions, Harry grabbed him and wrapped his arms around his chest, gently cradling his upper body. Unsure what else to do, he talked quietly and began to rock gently.

Slowly, Draco's body began to relax and he slowly calmed, then began to awaken. Though the tears had begun to dry, Draco's nose was fully clogged, and his voice was hoarse from the screams. He rested his head on Harry's shoulder, then opened his eyes, exhausted.

"Fuck. Oh, Circe, I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry." He tried to pull away, but Harry just held him close.

"I'll let you go if it'll help, but if it won't, please let me hold you. You really scared me, and I need a moment."

Draco avoided his eyes but nodded. "Can you at least get me a handkerchief? I feel like an arse."

Harry shushed him and summoned the cloth, then handed it to Draco. "What was that? Are you ill?"

Draco barked out a harsh laugh. "Mental, more like it. I call it _The Nightmare_. It usually lasts ages and I can't pull myself out of it. I've had it ever since—" He paused, then met Harry's eyes. "Well, ever since. Anyway, I'm surprised you could wake me. No one has before. They've tried, but I usually have to suffer through it. I haven't had one in months, really, so I should have expected one to come on at the worst possible time," he said with a scowl.

Harry gently rubbed his hand over Draco's back. "Well, if I was able to wake you and no one else has, then maybe it was the best possible time, yeah?"

Draco gave him a weak smile, still looking embarrassed and refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

Harry watched him with understanding. "Draco," he said quietly. "I have my own nightmares that I'm sure you'll experience if we have any more sleepovers. And I _want_ to have more sleepovers, believe me." He finally caught Draco's eye and gave him a look, daring him to contradict that. "I only caution you that if you wake me from one, make sure my wand is out of the way, and stand back. I tend to wake up from them swinging. I broke Ron's nose once."

Draco chuckled lightly—the idea of Ron with a broken nose seeming to cheer him, as Harry had hoped it would—then pulled away. "I really _am_ sorry. But… thank you. I should probably go home." He started to get up, but Harry caught his arm and pulled him back into the bed.

"Stay. Please. I want to make you breakfast tomorrow."

Draco gave him a larger smile and seemed to consider. "Fine, but it had better include bacon, Potter."

Harry grinned, then lay back and tugged Draco down with him, snuggling into the man's side. He gave a large yawn. "I can do bacon. Now go back to sleep. You need your energy if I'm going to take advantage of you in the morning."

Draco sighed in contentment and closed his eyes. "You monster."

* * *

Draco woke the next morning, disoriented. Slowly remembering where he was and why, he reached next to him, expecting to find Harry and instead finding a cooling bed. He could still feel remnants of Harry's heat, then realised the sound of the shower could be heard from the adjoining bathroom.

Sighing contentedly—and not worrying about what he looked like since he was obviously alone—he allowed a stupid grin to cross his face. He grabbed Harry's pillow and tucked it into his arms, then fell back to sleep.

When he awoke sometime later, the bathroom door was ajar and Harry was clearly no longer in the room. Remembering Harry's promise of breakfast, Draco got up and found a pair of joggers and one of Harry's t-shirts laying across the chaise at the end of the bed. He dressed quickly, made a quick trip to the loo, stopping to cast a quick teeth-cleansing spell, then left to find Harry.

Descending the stairs, he could hear noises coming from the kitchen and the scent of bacon was escaping the closed door. He stopped as the sound of clanking pans gave way to a sweet baritone voice.

_Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter  
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here  
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say, it's all right(1)_

Draco was stunned at the clarity and beauty of Harry's singing voice. Teddy had warned him that Harry had a nice voice, but somehow, Draco had been unprepared. What was it Teddy had told him? ' _Uncle Harry only likes to sing when he's happy.'_

_He's happy_ , was all Draco could think. _I made him happy._ The thrill of that thought, the realisation that this was truly happening, that they were _making each other happy_ , that they were _good together_ —at least so far—made him want to dance.

He didn't dance, of course, as such a thing would be inappropriate for a Malfoy, but if there was ever a time he didn't give a damn about what a Malfoy did, it was now. Harry was still singing, but it was more of a hum as Draco pushed the door open to find the man finishing what appeared to be enough food to feed the entire Weasley clan. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a Gryffindor t-shirt, his feet bare. The shirt stretched across his shoulders, accentuating the man's muscles, and Draco's mouth watered.

Harry glanced up and, seeing Draco's expression, laughed. "G'morning, Draco. I believe you requested bacon?" He gave Draco a ridiculously cheeky grin, reminding Draco of Teddy when he got into something naughty.

Draco cleared his throat and tried to pull himself together. Harry was just throwing him off completely, and he needed to regain his composure. He straightened his back formally and crossed the room to sit at the table, where Harry had two place settings ready.

He crossed his legs as formally as he could, given that he was wearing joggers, and crossed his fingers, waiting expectantly. "Good morning, Harry. Thank you for cooking."

Harry just stared, then burst out laughing again. "Sure, no problem. There's the bacon, of course, but I also scrambled some eggs and fried up some mushrooms and tomatoes. Toast will be done in a moment. Was tea fine, or would you prefer something else?"

Still feeling slightly overwhelmed, Draco just shook his head. "I think this is fine, thank you."

Harry sat down in his own seat shortly after, placing the toast onto the table between them, and they began to eat in silence. Draco wanted to kick himself, as he knew the sudden awkwardness was his own doing. Finally, he sighed.

"Thank you. Sorry, I'm just feeling a little strange about everything. This" —he gestured between them— "feels a little surreal, doesn't it?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, it does. But it's good, right?"

Draco nodded. "Definitely good. About my nightmare, Harry. I'm—"

Harry cut him off. "If you are about to apologise for that again, you're going to piss me off, so just stop right there." Draco watched him take a bite and chew and didn't say anything. Harry continued. "We have spent the last three months getting over this kind of awkwardness. _You_ insisted we talk about the hard stuff so that we'd know, so we'd understand each other. I _understand_ , Draco. There's no need for apologies."

Draco nodded and took a sip of his tea. He gave Harry a little smile, starting to finally relax. "I heard you singing. You're really good."

Harry blushed slightly. "Not really. I usually don't do it in front of anyone. I hope it didn't bother you."

Draco reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist. "I liked it. A lot. You sounded happy."

Harry met Draco's eye. "I am."

They watched each other closely, barely speaking as they ate. When they finished, Draco flicked his wand and sent the dishes to be washed in the sink, then stood and walked to where Harry sat. Pulling Harry's chair out slightly, he swung one leg over and sat across Harry's lap, looking down into his face.

"Me, too, Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows in question. "Huh?"

"I'm happy, too." Draco pushed a lock of Harry's hair behind his ear, then took off his glasses and set them on the table behind him. "So where do we go from here?"

Harry chuckled. "I think I know where you're going right now."

Draco smirked. "Perhaps. But what then? How do we do this?"

Harry reached up and took Draco's hand into his. "Together. We do this together. We go out together, we have fun together, we have arguments together, we have nightmares together, and thank Merlin, we have sex together. Really, _really_ good sex together."

"Fucking fantastic sex." Draco canted his hips forward slightly, eliciting a low groan from the man beneath him.

"Exactly," Harry managed to get out, though his voice was a bit lower than usual. "And when things come along that changes things up, we work with it, just…"

"Together."

"Together." Harry reached up and pulled Draco's mouth to his. After a long, gentle kiss, he sat back and his emerald green eyes felt as though they drilled into Draco's soul. "Does that work for you?"

"So we live our lives like normal? Just, together." He leaned forwards and hovered over Harry's lips, prepared to dive back in, but hesitated. "Yes, that works for me. It sounds extraordinary."

Harry smiled, and his entire face was lit up. Draco felt the pleasure of eliciting that smile radiate through him. It was simple, and easy, and it was life-changing. And it was good.

* * *

**_The End of The Beginning_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Song Lyric info - Songwriters: George Harrison Here Comes The Sun (Acoustic) lyrics © Sm Publishing (Poland) Sp. Z O.o., Harrisongs Ltd

**Author's Note:**

>  _Wait, what? That’s it? That’s the end?_ No, sillies, that’s not the end. It’s just the beginning of their lives together. And since that’s the really fun stuff, in my opinion, that’s actually where this series started. So lucky you, there are already (as of the date of this story’s completion) twelve sequels! Most are one-shots, some are longer, and I’m adding more stories regularly.  
> In fact, as a special surprise, I am publishing an **additional story** to the series today! It takes place about two weeks after the chapter above and is practically an **epilogue.** So if you’re ready for more, hit that button for the next story and enjoy _Polite Conversation_. Thanks for reading!


End file.
